Another

Sitting down in his favorite bar, dark, quiet, and only a few other patrons, the executioner ordered his usual.  He needed to get the smell out of his nose and clothes and the only way he had found to do that was by going to the dive where there was much smoking, hardly any talking, and years of human odors piled upon each other until the place took on a dank smell that would only ever be relieved by burning the place down.

Why did he continue moonlighting with this job?  Money, of course, there was good money in state-sanctioned murder, and he was just the person to relieve the state of it.  Well, he and two other men who never talked or acknowledged each other.  The sour, pungent smell of the bar was beginning to work its magic on him, and he noticed he could look at the other customers in the face again.  Bars always have distinctive smells to them depending on what they are used for.  The expensive, high-society ones didn’t have a bad smell to them; they were always pleasant, well-ventilated, and clean.  But you paid an arm and a leg for your watered-down drinks.  No, the cheap ones were the best at getting rid of other odors, supplanting them with their own mix of years of sweat, smoke, puke, and humans.      

“Another,” he ordered and the drink was served with the usual mix of apathy and curiosity.  The amber liquid seared his throat, fogged his sinus cavities with the vapor of cheap alcohol, and produced the requisite wincing that comes with trying to swallow something meant to be used as cleaning fluid.  The rotund bartender never asked him questions, but stood by in case he said anything other than a drink order.  He never did.  A quiet man by nature, it wasn’t in him on the best of days to chat.  He said what needed to be said and that was it.  Maybe that’s why his ex-wife…, well, what good was she anyway?

Impeccably dressed, he didn’t look the look of this bar.  It was the standard suit he wore to his second job, and he hated it.  It felt scratchy and cheap and he didn’t allow it to be in his closet.  He chafed at the collar and he reached up to loosen the tie and top button on his starched shirt.  The release of pressure was welcome, and he closed his eyes and smiled.  The suit was only kept in a box in the trunk of his car and it got cleaned before he needed to go to work, and he paid extra for the pressing.  It simply wouldn’t do to look shabby for the audience and the star. 

“Another,” and the drink magically appeared.  He wondered if the bartender could smell the smell on him, or if because he worked in a place that smelled of everything his olfactory senses were long since damaged beyond repair.  The executioner covertly sniffed the upper arm of his manicured suit coat.  He couldn’t be sure what he smelled; it was either the carbonized remains of the prisoner or dry cleaning fluid.  Did anyone around him know what he did for rent and alimony money?  He surreptitiously looked around and like he, everyone else had their heads down in their drinks, contemplating their own misery and haunted past deeds. 

After a while, the dimly-lit and hazy bar began to clear out and a few of the denizens shuffled toward the door.  It was getting late, but he had nothing to return to.  He had more family in this shack right now than he ever had when he was a member of polite society.  He had to get up later this morning to go to his respectable job, and he didn’t care at that particular moment.  That care would come in about four hours when that evil invention rang with the most annoying sound in the world.

Maybe he should quit this second job, but he dismissed the idea immediately because the money was so good.  The cheap alcohol was making him fuzzy headed and the bar began to be less hideous and the harsh edges began to soften.  It was warm, comforting, and he began to feel at ease.  Even the rank smell was beginning to lull him into contentment.  So what if he got rid of scum for a living?  They deserved it, didn’t they?  And, with the passage of time and alcohol, he couldn’t remember the prisoner’s name anymore.  He knew he had reached the point of the night where he could go home and sleep. 

“Another,” one more couldn’t hurt.  The warm liquid peeled the skin from his throat and he relished the feel of it.  No ice for him to cool the caustic nature of the invitingly amber liquid.  All he could smell now was cigarette and sweat and he knew, just knew, that the last remnants of what’s-his-name were gone from him.

This was a story I wrote for Eng 203 (creative writing).  I ran across it the other day while cleaning out files on my computer and thought I'd put it in my blog.  I've always wondered what the executioners do after an execution.  

  

Where's my game face?

I was watching the news the other night when the sports came on.  There was an interview with a sports player of some sort and rather than tuning out what he was saying, I stopped what I was doing to actually listen to what he was saying.  And, to my surprise, he spoke in nothing but cliches.  (Yes, I know there is supposed to be an accent over the e, but I can type faster without having to stop and put it in).  I can't remember all of the phrases, but here are a few:  "We have to score more points to win" "The other team wanted it more than we did" "We just have to put our heads down and move the ball" "We need to come out fighting and take charge" and, my favorite, "We need to put our game face on and play to win!".  There was not one iota of real answer in anything this young man said.  Now, I'm not sure if that is what is expected of athletes who lose and have to do interviews, but it seemed to me that his answers were trite and he was bored with the whole interview process.  And, what are the fans supposed to get out of this?  If I know these phrases inside and out, what does the serious sports fan think?  Do they get tired of hearing these same phrases every time a game is played?  I believe there are winning ones to, but they fail to come to me just now.  But, those aren't the ones that people care about.  Hey, their team has won, so who really listens to them?  As we go into "Big Game Sunday" this weekend, I am sure I'll have plenty of opportunity to hear all the football cliches there are in existence as I'm sure, even at this very minute, there is a pre-game show on some channel.  But what about the cliches?  Is it that difficult to answer questions without resorting to them?  And, is it just sports people that use them as conversation?

This afternoon, my coworker was talking to me and at one point of the conversation about her mother, she used an entire paragraph of cliches strung together that didn't even make sense.  She ended the conversation with "where the rubber meets the road".  Yes, I've heard this one before and I've often wonder what it actually means.  Unless you are a stunt driver or a speeding maniac, doesn't the rubber always meet the road?  I was so engrossed in thinking about her cliches that I completely missed what she was rambling on about and when she stopped talking I asked her if she knew that she had just completed an entire conversation using mostly cliches.  She looked stunned and said, "so?".  She then pointed out that not ALL of us can be English majors and I think I just got my first lesson in the dangers of letting people know your major.  So, I began to think about my speaking patterns because she wasn't talking anymore, and I was a bit grateful for that.  After 8 hours of listening to the same issue with her, I was ready for a change of topic.  But, I decided that I do use some cliches when speaking, but not in my writings for school.  Why?  Speaking and talking with people can be informal and why is it ok to use them there?  You will be judged if you use bad grammar in informal conversation so why not judged for trite sayings?  If a cliche is understandably forbidden in a paper, why do we allow them in our conversations?  I know why you don't put them in papers, but does every one know that?  I'm guessing there are many, many English teachers that have to correct these insidious phrases because the younglings think they are acceptable form in writing because they use it in conversation AND their favorite sports person uses them too!

I've decided that I'm going to make an effort to not use them in my speaking life as they are beginning to irritate me.  And when I hear them, I almost fixate on them and can't listen to the rest of the sentence.  I guess what stops me is that I end up over-thinking the cliche when I shouldn't.  Where the rubber meets the road.  Why is that significant?  As a commuter to both work and school, there's a lot of rubber meeting the road and all it does is cost me more money for new tires.

I had a very nice surprise occur this week.  In my school email, there was a letter from the Golden Key International Honour Society.  I almost deleted it as junk mail, but then read that it was from UWM.  Seems I've gotten some good grades and they are inviting me to join their Society.  I have never heard of this group before, but they gave me links to the websites and, after reading through both the local and the main site, I decided they were legit.  I'm very flattered, and surprised because I thought I had read that only full-time students get honor recognition, but apparently that's only for the Dean's List.  Part time students can also receive honors, so that was neat to find out.  But, now I feel like there's some kind of pressure on me to keep getting A's, but I'm not sure why this would make any difference.  That's my goal anyway, but it seems like as soon as someone recognizes that, it makes the pressure so much worse.  Maybe it's because I know that if no one is paying attention, I don't have to worry if I fail something.  I hate the fact that I keep thinking I'm going to fail when, in probability  I won't.  I know an A isn't guaranteed, but I'm pretty sure I can hit one of the other letters that isn't a D or an F.  So why do I keep thinking I'm going to fail?  I think I've proven that I can do this, and I'm beginning to think that even though I've repeated all but one class that I did so poorly in, and did very well in repeat, that I still failed my first year of college and I can't get over that. It doesn't matter that it was 27 years ago and no one other than myself cares or remembers, but it is still there.  I see it on my transcript and it strikes a chord so deep in me, that I still, to this day, cringe when I look at my course history.

As the new semester begins to pick up momentum, I am finally, finally recovering from my two month long illness that required two courses of antibiotics and two courses of prednisone.  I had a mish-mash of whopping cough, walking pneumonia, bronchitis, and just for kicks, a sinus infection.  I'm still dealing with the sinus infection and a little bit of lung congestion yet.  I still blame the germy kids at UWM who are not washing their hands and are coughing and sneezing all over the place.   I have never been ill for that long in my life.  I've had my share of colds, bronchitis, sinus infections, flu, strep, and most any other common contagion that plagues the Earth, but I've never been sick for two months straight.  And, with a continually evolving illness that just kept turning into something different.  And, for the first time, I truly felt old and worn out.  I am 45, and some would argue that is not old, but it is middle-aged and I was feeling every bit of it.  In my mind, I feel about 30ish, and I feel that I still have energy levels that a younger person would have.  How else do I pull off full time work, part time school, all the housework, all of the summer yard work (and with two summer classes), all the crap that goes with daily living (car maintenance, grocery shopping, errand running), endless studying, and do all of this on around five hours of sleep a night?  I'm not saying I'm some kind of "super" person, but I do believe that mind-set is important to one's attitude, especially when it comes to "mental age".  This illness started at the beginning of December, and fully manifested within two days after my finals when I stopped obsessing about them.  I knew I had a cough and I was really tired, but with the goal of finals in mind, I had something to concentrate on.  Once that was taken away, the illness took over and three trips to the doctor later I was on a "super" antibiotic because he couldn't believe the first one didn't take care of what was in my lungs.  This was a glimpse of what it must be like to be chronically ill, and I didn't care for it one bit.  As a member of the health care world, I would like to think we cure people, but honestly, it is a waiting game.  I knew I was in some serious issues when the first antibiotic didn't even touch my symptoms and pretty much just pissed off what was already there.  All I can hope for now, is to recover and hope those germy kids at UWM wash their hands more.  I know I will be.

 

      

I love big books and I cannot lie....

My husband gave me a Samsung Galaxy Tablet for Christmas this year.  It's the smaller one because I had wanted something that I could easily carry around, and the main objective was to read books on it using an app of some sort.  I originally thought a kindle or an ereader device would be good, but then realized I could do that plus much more on a tablet AND it was cheaper than a kindle fire.  I finally got to open and play with said tablet this past weekend because we had postponed our Christmas twice due to my being sick.  Yes, I'm STILL sick.  As in this is going on 5 weeks of sick now.  I've been the the doctor twice, and have been given all sorts of diagnosis's (is that the plural of diagnosis?) and medicine.  And I'm thoroughly convinced that none of it made any difference, this thing is going to run its course whether or not I try to interfere.  As we were preparing to have my mother in law over last weekend, my husband said to me after a particularly disgusting coughing fit, "are you sure you want to do this?".  After I returned to consciousness, I said, "no, I don't think so".  He promptly called his mother and postponed yet again.  But, I digress.

 

Scott, had already gotten and played with his Christmas present, a kindle fire.  So, I finally got to open my presents because I knew it would cheer me up.  I had some presents from Kathie, (thanks Kathie!) and then my tablet.  I opened it, turned it on, and was off and running (while wearing the presents Kathie had given me).  Scott helped me set it up to our internet connection and less than a minute later I was downloading books to my tablet.  I started reading and although I love the ease of an ereader, there is something very sad about the inevitable change from having a honest to God real book in your hands to a small electronic device devoid of any inherent qualities of cloth and paper.  Or, leather and paper if it's a really expensive book.  My tablet doesn't smell like old paper.  Not the musty, moldy, yucky smell.  But the warm, comforting, dusty smell that paper takes on when it ages.  There is no heft to the tablet like a good, big book.  You can't snap a tablet shut with a resounding CRACK! that definitively states you have closed this book.  And, although we are told the ebooks we buy will be ours forever, there is permanence to a physical book that no ebook will ever replace.  Yes, once on the internet, always on the internet, but a physical book and all its clones has more permanence to it than any binary code can ever replicate.

 

Twice in my life I've had the following comment directed at me, "awfully big book for a girl" and "that's a big book for a girl".  The first comment was many years ago (1987?) and I was reading Tom Clancy's Red Storm Rising for the second time.  And, yes, it IS a big book.  The second comment was directed at me when I was studying my chemistry textbook in 2009.  I replied to the person that I was only looking at the pictures and smiled my most vapid, empty-headed smile I could muster.  I'm not sure if the person understood the sarcasm of my comment.  Interestingly, both times the comment was made from a man.  I've never once had a woman tell me I was reading big books, but I have had women tell me that they hate reading and I had one coworker proudly tell me that she has never finished a book in her life.  I almost cried at that statement because she really doesn't understand what that tells the world about her, and that she was proud of it made me very, very sad.  However, with my new tablet, I will never hear the big book for a girl comment again.  No one really knows what you are reading, and as a society we've grown so accustom to seeing people with their faces buried in an electronic device of some sort that an ereader will never draw the attention a Tom Clancy novel does.  I'm ok with that, but part of me always liked seeing people reading books in public.  I guess that's the librarian in me.  

 

Which brings me to my last point.  The evolution of brick and mortar libraries.  One of my greatest pleasures in life is to walk into a library and just take in the stacks.  I love seeing shelving full of books and materials just sitting and waiting there for discovery.  When I was a kid, I lived in a very small town.  Jackson did not have a library, except in the elementary school.  West Bend, the closest city did have a library, but only West Bend residents could get a library card.  This was before the computer age, libraries banding together to form large lending establishments, and the understanding that you really do want your kids to love the library.  I remember being told in a very snotty manner that "Jackson" kids can't get a library card because their parents didn't pay taxes to West Bend.  Which, to an 8 year old, means absolutely nothing.  All I knew was that I wanted to be part of the library because, well who wouldn't!!!?  I've told this story many times, and I can still experience that feeling of inferiority I had because I truly didn't understand why I couldn't have a library card.  But, that's all in the past.  I have a library card for not just Lakeview Community Library in Random Lake, but for all of the Eastern Shores System.  Yeah me!!!  As I read on my tablet however, the nagging little voice in the back of my head tells me I am contributing to the death of the form of the library I love the most.  As libraries convert and evolve to accommodate ereader devices, that means less and less physical books to put on a shelf.  I understand that evolution is inevitable and change is going to happen, but there is a distinct possibility that by the time my life is over (assuming I live to a ripe, old age) a brick and mortar library will be a rare thing that is only a repository of documents, archives, artifacts that can't be digitized, and records.  There will be a few places that will have computer access for those that don't have it, and many will become "community centers" that will serve the needs of folks who want to take classes, participate in community functions and festivals, and use the library for things they can't afford like internet access.  But not for the act of walking the stacks to find a book cover that draws your attention and makes you select it.  Not for checking out a physical book and wondering how many other people have read these words and did they like it, what did they think of it, and why would someone spill coffee on it? (at least I hope it's coffee)

 

Awfully big book for a girl.  I wonder if anyone will ever utter "awfully big tablet for a girl".  It seems to me that the electronic generation  will never even understand the dynamics behind the technology they are using.  Nor would they want to.  It's just there for them to use and from their perspective, it always has been.  Part of me, however, is very sad that as time marches on, fewer and fewer people will know the joy of walking into a building, smelling that papery smell, and be engulfed into stacks and stacks of words, stories, ideas, lamentations, examinations, diatribes, documentaries, pictures, and experiences that are much bigger than themselves.      

Ahhhh...

                                 

I had both of my finals on Monday, and I'm really glad I'm done for the week.  Although I looked like Frodo above by the time I got home  that night, I'm appreciative of being done with my finals and still having some time in the week to deal with being ill and Christmas.

About a week and a half ago, I started feeling draggy and tired, but chalked it up to the usual.  Full-time work, half-time school, endless studying and worrying about finals, running a household, paying the bills, and oh, yeah, I think Christmas is coming up soon...  But then I developed...the cough.  This isn't a normal cold cough where you politely expel air for a few throat or lung clearing exhalations.  Oh, no.  This is the I'm-really-trying-to-physically-bring-one-or-both-lungs-out-of-my-chest-cavity-by-heaving-from-my-toes cough.  Lest you think I'm exaggerating, my ribs are sore to the touch, and I'm buying stock in Depends undergarments (yes, I know, too, too much TMI).  Even the muscles in my head are sore from coughing.  And, it's a dry, piercing, non-productive, five minute cough that got me kicked out of the quiet study area at UWM's library.  So, while at work today, several of the nurses who work down the hallway from me came to see me.  Seems even through my closed, steel door, they could hear me down the hallway.  They are sure I have walking pneumonia, which I've heard about and working in the health care field, know about, but I didn't realize that you can feel almost "normal" but be extremely tired and have this very distinctive cough.  I just thought I was tired because I am getting on average 5 hours of sleep and had the end of the semester and finals to deal with.  What student isn't tired at this point?  Unfortunately, there is nothing to be done about this viral pneumonia and you have to let it run its course.  Great.

I powered through my finals, and thankfully did very well.  An A in math stats and an A- in grammar.  Scott thought it odd that I would do better in stats than grammar given my major, but it's because I didn't know how to diagram sentences and didn't do that well at the beginning of the semester with them.  The rest of the test was fine, but I was a bit shaky on understanding what goes where.  I finally got it toward the end of the semester, but by then I needed to bring some B+ tests up with the final.  I hate having to do it that way, but I'm glad it worked.  I'd rather have the strong grades going into the finals so that the pressure isn't as great.  As I mentioned, I had both of them on Monday and that was easily one of the longest days I've had for school.  I got to UWM at 8am and left at 8pm.  Stats was in the morning and grammar was in the evening.  But, I had time to study for grammar, so I devoted most of the weekend to stats.  Thankfully, it worked out well.

Now it's time for baking, shopping, wrapping, cleaning, decorating, and getting my house in order for the next semester.  And reading for fun.  I really miss that, and have a huge wish list on my library account.  I will have to get a few books in for the break.  So, that's it for the fall semester 2012 and it was nice not to have test hysterics involved.  One of my coworker friends told me tonight (as I was buying codeine cough syrup) "I didn't realize you were in school this semester because you never complained once!"  Nice.

Endings of things

I have never been good at good-byes.  I find them sad reminders of how time passage is swift, unforgiving, and final.  Several things have transpired in the past few months that have given me a feeling of good-byes and how life changes whether we want it to or not.  One good-bye is the closing of Hostess Company.  Mainly known for Twinkies, they also made my favorite, Susy-Q's.  I was poor growing up, and these cakes were a very rare treat and almost a delicacy for me.  While many of my friends would have Twinkies in their lunches, I was relegated to the hot lunch program because it was cheap.  There were no Twinkies in the hot lunch program back then.  But Hostess has been a part of American life style since 1930 and had employed around 18,500 people.  I'm not going to go into the whole evilness of the Baker's union, but I think they should have made an effort to settle.  Even the Teamsters told them to settle.  But I digress.  As a result, and unless someone buys the company and recipes, a long-standing American tradition is gone.  My mother in law gave me a recipe called Twinkie Torte and now that will have to be made with an imitation brand and it will not be the same.  Again, a tinge of sadness and something lost.

My husband and I were faced with the reality of how a freedom has been lost.  We had our health insurance through his work, and because of Obamacare, his company made huge and drastic changes to their 2013 plan.  Mainly, a huge price penalty if I were to stay on his insurance and had access to my employer's insurance, a tripling of premiums, a "wellness program" that had mandatory participation or suffer a financial penalty, and a reduction of coverage for certain services.  My open enrollment was closed already, so I said, "Let's just put the  money we would have used in premiums in savings and see what happens next year".  We are both healthy, have no real need to go to the doctor except for routine physicals once a year and I felt we could just wait and see.  It was a crashing reminder of how that freedom has been taken away because it is now mandatory to have insurance.  And if I hear that asinine lie of being able to keep your doctor again, I will go ballistic.  I have to change my doctor.  He's not in the high deductible plan I have to switch to.  He would be out of network.  Yeah, I can go to him, but it's a toss up if my "insurance" will cover the visit or not.  So, no, you don't get to keep your doctor.

As this semester comes to a close, I'm reminded of how you just get to know a group of people and a teacher and then you are done.  I'm not advocating for longer semesters, but it does seem like I just get comfortable in the class and it's pretty much over.  I am understanding both math stats and grammar well enough to ask good questions instead of playing the catch-up game and understanding what is being taught after it is done and over.  I usually read ahead, but that doesn't always help, especially in stats.  I must have crossed some understanding line with stats because I really am "getting" what she is teaching.  However, this is the last full week and then the final is on the 17th.  Another semester done, another group of people I probably won't see again.

Which brings me to the main point of this blog entry.  As I grow older, I find that I evaluate people as I come across them and make an almost unconscious decision as to whether or not I want to invest time and energy into creating a friendship with them.  I know it sounds a bit harsh, but, for me, a friendship and getting to know someone is a personal investment that I have a hard time with losing.  Again, as I said, good-byes are not easy for me.  And, when I find someone who really clicks with me, it is even more sad when circumstances change and we go our separate ways.  When I first started back at school I made a few friendships that this happened with and I feel bad that I've lost touch with them.  What seemed so permanent then, is gone.  Yet I'm sure this happens all the time, and in other circumstances than just school.  Work is the next common place I would think this happens because we've all made friends at work and then lost that friendship when one or the other moves on.  Not always (Hi Kathie!), but it is rare for those friendships to endure.  Promises of get-togethers quickly fade after the good-byes are said.

And sometimes, circumstances of relationships prevent any further contact than a professional level.  Even though you know you'd probably be really good friends if things were different.  That good-bye is bittersweet and sad and one I am loathe to lose.  

           

UWM so far...

The new schedule for spring classes came out this week, and I think I have my classes picked out.  I'm trying to decide if I should take two classes or three.  I go through this almost every semester, and usually someone has to remind me that three classes and full time work is probably not the best way to spend 16 weeks.  So, I will pick my two and have the third as a back-up in case I don't get one of my other two.  In the hierarchy of registration at UWM, juniors get to register fourth.  Even the freshmen get to register before the juniors, but at least we are not sophomores who are last.  And they would be fifth to register.  And, of course, we need to let the student athletes register first because we wouldn't want THEM missing out on their classes, now would we???  They are right up there with the Honors College students.  Yeah, that's a good comparison.  But, after the spring semester, I will be a senior and will get to register, second.  Always nice to know where you stand in the college world.

I also hope that this will be my last semester that's ever taught by a graduate student.  My math stats class is taught by a very nice person, but English is not her first language (Chinese is), and she is not going to be a teacher, but has to teach this class for some reason for her graduate work.  So, I have no doubt she is brilliant in the world of mathematics, but she really needs a lesson on how to teach.  And, maybe work a bit on her English.  Teaching (and learning) math is a difficult process for most of us, and it really helps if you can understand the person teaching it.  Like I said, she is very nice and I have no doubt she is brilliant, but I can't translate and understand stats in the same thought.  I am not brilliant, so doing those two things at once leaves me several beats behind what she is teaching.  Or missing a critical point to a formula.  The book is better, and I've been able to figure it out so far, but I resent having to pay my full tuition and getting a graduate student teacher.  I realize and understand that this is how large Universities work, and how future teachers get trained, but why don't I get a discount then?  If I go see a nurse practitioner or a medical assistant instead of my regular MD doctor, the office charge is different and usually less.  And, because I feel that I am teaching myself a large portion of this class, it makes handing over the money even more irritating.  I am doing well in the class, after figuring out how the semester was going to unfold, so I'm not so upset as to actually do anything about it.  Besides, what would it gain?  There is no way this practice is going to change.  I would just make myself even more angry and irritated at a system that has evolved into an untouchable topic and would be labeled trouble-maker in the process.  I think it would be worse if I had more freshman/sophomore classes to take, but as of the spring semester, I only need my major classes and I believe those will be taught by full professors.  At least my grammar class is.

However, I came to the realization that I really miss Sheboygan.  Had I taken this math stats class there, I would have been taught by a professor and not a graduate student.  But, that goes back to getting the bad advice from the UWM adviser and needing to take two semesters of Spanish.  I would have made different choices had I been given the advice I should have been given.  But, Scott tells me I have to stop obsessing about this and move on.  He's right, but when the consequences of an action come to fruition, it is very hard not to be a bit obsessed about the results.  What happens if I fail math stats?  I will need to repeat the class, but I would never be able to shake the thought that had I taken it at Sheboygan, I wouldn't have failed it because the PROFESSOR teaching it would be an actual teacher and not some grad student teaching because they need to fulfill a requirement.  Because the professor would have chosen the teaching path, and after several years of experience, would know exactly what works and what doesn't.  Unlike my current grad student who gives six point "quizzes" at the end of a chapter that have the weight of a full test that's worth 100 points.  Yeah, there's a whole new level of test anxiety to deal with.  And when explaining a difficult concept (that's easy for her, though) tells us to "just come to my office hours if you have questions" and moves on to the next topic whether or not we have questions.  Her office hours are Friday 9 to 12 and if you work Fridays from oh, say, 7:30am to 5:00pm, it's a bit difficult to go to her office hours.

The school has an unfriendly feel to it too.  Now, keep in mind that I've worked in this area for over 20 years before Columbia merged and moved and my office moved to the River Woods campus in Glendale.  I've been on UWM's campus at various times over the years, and I've never really felt this before.  I'm not sure what it is, and I can't quite put my finger on it, but the school has a much different feel to it.  I'm also a graduate of the Downtown MATC campus, and that wasn't nearly as off-putting as UWM.  I think it may have more to do with my age than anything else, but in both my stats class and my grammar class, there is at least one other student who is older than I am, so I don't think that's the whole explanation.  I don't see nearly as many "non-traditional" students as I did at Sheboygan, but then again the student population is so much greater than at Sheboygan too.  I am hoping that I will feel differently in a few semesters, but I actually thought about transferring yesterday.  I'm not sure where I would go, and how that would fit into my work schedule, or even how much it would cost, but the thought was there, plain and simple.

There is one interesting thing I would like to pursue at UWM though.  They have a student run organization in the Union that is the Arts and Crafts Center.  It is a workshop area that has tools and supplies for many different areas of interest.  It is one of the last open to the public darkrooms for traditional film photography, and they also run classes from beginning sewing to advanced metal smithing.  When I went in there for my orientation tour, I had on my favorite silver and gold dragonscale bracelet.  When the two students who were giving the tours saw it, they wanted to know if I would be interested in teaching chain maille classes.  They don't have a chain maille teacher, and knew that at least the SCA group would probably be interested in learning techniques to make their own maille.  I think if I can get involved in something, that might make a difference in the "feel" of the University.  It is out of the question this semester because my schedule and effort put into math stats won't allow it, but next semester I might be able to swing it.  The two academic classes I'm looking at would be once weekly classes and I'd be able to go back to my four, 9-hour day work week with a day off during the week.  I believe it would give me time for both study and to teach a beginner maille class.  They also have metal smithing classes that I'd be interested in taking, as that area of study has great appeal to me.  I'd love to learn how to solder and to make metal pieces that are not chain maille.  I could take actual classes, but I would need prereqs and have to pay huge amounts of tuition for the same knowledge I could learn though a non-credit class.  For A LOT less.  Hmmm, maybe that's my plan for next semester.

So, those are my student life issues at the beginning of week 10.  I'm doing well, and am happy with my mid term grades, so I'm gaining some confidence that I might just pass stats on the first swing through.  I know I should have more confidence in myself than what that last sentence implies, but I really don't.  Not when it comes to math.  Although I do feel more confident in math than I do in Spanish, so I guess there's always a bigger fish.    One of my favorite experiences at Sheboygan was after graduation.  Prof Walkenhorst saw my friends and family in the parking lot and came up to introduce himself and to congratulate me.  When I introduced my group, he, in all sincerity, tried to convince my husband and my best friend to convince me to go into math as a major.  He taught both my Algebra 105 and 110 classes, and I got A's for both.  His style of teaching is very precise and methodical, as a math course should be.  I understood him completely after a class, except for logarithms and no one wants to discuss those.  Logarithms are the verbs of the math world.  In any case, it was incredibly heady to hear that someone thought I should major in math, and I cling to that whenever I feel overwhelmed in stats.  To this day, my friend Jill tries to convince me to be an actuary.  Yeah, four semesters of calculus and untold other math classes I can't even pronounce their names.  Maybe if I was 20 years younger, but this brain of mine isn't going to learn yet another language.       

So, with that, it is time to study for my grammar test on Monday.  I like this class.  My professor makes a very dry and boring topic funny and interesting.  She is also a story-teller and I really like that.  My friend from work is taking this class with me, so it's fun to have that together.  She is going to be a teacher, and is taking this class as her upper level English requirement.  I am too, despite the Chair of the English dept questioning why I would want to take a grammar class.  Given that I will (hopefully) be writing on a professional level for a company sometime in the future, I think it is probably important to know the difference between I am good and I am well.  Now there's a new habit I have to break.

       

When advice goes bad....

For better or worse, I declared my major today.  I am officially an English major now.  I’ve decided to follow the professional/grant/technical writing program and as the Chair of the English dept put it, “you work with words people use at work”.  There’s an internship I will have to do coming down the road and he asked me if I would be able to work that in around my current job.  I said yes, because what else would I say?  If I want to graduate, I will have to do this.  What I think will really happen is that I will end up working my job around the internship.  But, one step at a time.  I’m 36 credits from graduating, so for my part time little adventure, that’s two years of fall, spring and summer semesters.  However, most of the English classes I will need are not offered in summer sessions, so I don’t think it will be two years and will probably be a little longer.  So, my plan is this:  I will minor in the IST program and switch back and forth between IST and English.  I need 18 credits in IST for a minor, and I’ve already taken six, so two more summer semesters and I’ll finish that requirement.  And because those classes are offered online, I shouldn’t have a problem with the summer terms and availability.  But, that makes me take two more fall/spring combo semesters for English, bringing my grand total of time to three years.  So, I’m more than half-way done, and there is light beginning at the end of the tunnel. 

I also found out last week that I did not need to take two semesters of Spanish.  I’m following the 1989 to 1998 set of graduation guidelines, and with my one year of high school French, I fulfilled the foreign language requirement.  It would appear that the adviser I met with in the summer of 2011 gave me bad advice, and was too lazy to look up in the archives to see if I really needed to take two semesters of a foreign language.  And for whatever reason, UWM still has not put those requirements into the computer system they use for advising and the adviser was too lazy to actually check for me even though I made an appointment ahead of time, and asked her repeatedly if I really needed to take two semesters worth.  She insisted I did, and I even confirmed with her that I was a student in 1985 with transferable credit, so, again, did I really need to take two semesters of foreign language?  Yes, she said.  The rest is history which has been written about ad nauseaum on this blog. 

Money and time aside (roughly $1500 in tuition and $200 for a book), it was two semesters I could have used to work on credits for my degree.  My goal in coming back to college was not necessarily to wander through the liberal arts degree, but to keep to a track that would allow me to graduate in the shortest amount of time possible.  I work full time along with going to school and while I won’t change that, it is draining at times and I feel like I’m never rested anymore.  I also have a house that needs cleaning and upkeep, and those chores don’t go away because I have a test.  I’m not looking for sympathy here, but I just can’t get over how cavalier the adviser’s advice was, and how she just didn't care (when I confronted her) or understand why I was so upset with her.  I developed an anxiety disorder from this, and now it has found its way into my life in such insidious ways that I feel like a part of my personality has permanently changed.  Crisis of confidence Kathie calls it, and that is really the perfect name for it.  I took my first math stats test last week also, and I didn't do so well.  I had that same wanting to flee panic sensation and my mind just emptied of everything I had studied.  The frustrating thing is, I know the answers.  I got the test back and I knew the right answers to the questions I got wrong without looking them up.  Blind panic and the thought of what the hell am I doing in here was all it took to fail the easiest test of the semester.  And they are horrible little 9 point “quizzes” that do not forgive in the least. 

So, since finding out about the foreign language requirement, I've been trying to focus on the good that came out of the two semesters of life changing stress instead of the negative.  I did learn a lot and more than I originally thought.  I find that errant thoughts about Spanish suddenly make sense to me.  It’s as if they really needed to percolate a bit in my brain before making a connection.  I made several friends in the two classes, and that’s always good.  But the biggest positive thing that came out of it was that my understanding of grammar significantly increased.  My other class of this semester is an advanced grammar class, and we are making predication charts and beginning diagramming.  Now, the last time I attempted a sentence diagram was in my freshman year of high school in 1982.  I don’t know about you, but in addition to being 30 years ago, I never understood it then and even now, I’m just barely beginning to get it.  However, I sure as heck know what an object, participle, tense, and other various and assorted grammar terms are.  Both semesters of Spanish were grammar heavy and although it was Spanish grammar, we had to understand English grammar before we could fit Spanish into some sort of order.  I've even used my Spanish grammar book on my homework.  I use the English explanations as they are really good definitions. 

Slowly, I am beginning to adjust to being at UWM.  I am astounded at the lack of space there.  And, at how small the insides of the buildings are.  It’s really weird because the buildings look rather large from the outside, and I thought they would be, oh I don’t know, cleaner somehow.  And, yes, I’ve only been in a few of the buildings on campus, but the ones I’ve been in are dark, cluttery, and the bathrooms are gas station level at best.  And they are small, way too small for a University of this size.  I’m not sure who thought it was a good idea to put one or two three-stall bathrooms on an entire floor for the students.  I’m sure the staff have their own, but the ones the students have to use are kind of gross.  I don’t even want to consider what the men’s rooms are like. 

In my math stats class, there is a blind student who sits next to me.  He is a linguistics major, and knows several languages.  He is taking Russian and Swedish this semester and I told him of my trials with Spanish.  Of course he knows Spanish too, and was at loss to understand why I struggled so hard with learning it.  Quite frankly, I am at a loss in understanding that too, but that’s not my point here.  He’s been at UWM for four years, and his normal pathways around campus have been blocked because UWM has several large construction projects going on and the students have to take detours around the machinery.  He asked me to walk him to the other side of campus on Tuesdays and Thursdays after class, and I agreed.  I’ve had limited experience leading a blind person before as my mother had diabetic retinopathy that robbed her of most of her eyesight for several years before she died.  I told him that I might not be the best guide and why, and he said that I would be better than him not having a guide at all, and I can’t argue with that.  So, it has been an informative four weeks because I’m not shy about asking him questions about his blindness and he doesn’t mind answering them.  I know that because it was one of the first questions I asked him.  He has a talking calculator (with ear piece) and voice recognition software on this computer (again, with headphones).  But, our class is being taught by a Chinese graduate student who knows her math stats, but English is clearly not her interest.  Then again, who am I to judge her pronunciation?  My only hitch on that thought is that I’m paying bucket-loads of tuition and trying to figure out her accent is a real chore, let alone understanding the content of her lectures.  She gets math stats, and the rest of us are trying to figure out what the heck she just said.  Again, her English is WAY better than my Chinese, but if I was going to teach, I would want to be sure to be understood.  In any case, my friend can’t use his special software because it doesn’t understand the teacher, but he seems to understand her just fine.  At least he types like a maniac and keeps up with her.

I'm still undecided about the whole bad advising issue and if I can really trust those advisers.  I've heard all the arguments now, ranging from "you can use them for general electives" to "you'll need Spanish for the workforce".  I know all these, but yet, I keep coming back to the thought of why this adviser couldn't do her job in an effective and competent manner.  This sort of thing would never fly in the health care industry.  "Oh, well, you didn't really need your appendix out, but now it is and you won't have to worry about it!" would set the hospital and doctor up for a huge malpractice law suit.  I also keep thinking of all the jobs in the world where people just guess instead of actually finding out the truth and what happens because of that.  I was thoroughly convinced that if I didn't pass Spanish, I would have dropped out of college.  Why would I continue on with tuition and other expenses if I couldn't pass the class and needed it for graduation requirements?   And while that thought drove me to study for endless hours and pass with a respectable grade, I still am angry that the anxiety that came from those tests has not left me.  Again, I would have dropped out of college, ended my pursuit of a Bachelor's right then and there had I flunked.  I guess you could call it good motivation, and shows that people can get through what they need to if they believe enough, but I feel as though I can never really trust the advisers again, and quite frankly that's probably not a good thing.  Trust issues.  I have trust issues to begin with, and something like this does nothing to alleviate those issues.  So, enough griping about this.  I am done, I have the credits, I learned something, I made friends, I expanded my grammar knowledge, and I will put it away.  You're killin' me Smalls!