Category: No Particular Place to Go

Wednesday, November 26, 2003
The end of the semester cannot come too soon
Last night I dreamt about essays.
You know those dreams, as a student, in which you arrive in class to discover there’s a huge test on something you’re completely unfamiliar with? Well, teachers get ’em too.
I told one of my colleagues about the essay dream. Her recurring nightmare – she’s in a classroom, and the students are talking, throwing things, and generally being rowdy. At the top her lungs, she’s shouting for order; but her voice comes out in a tiny, inaudible whisper.
Shudder.
Monday, November 24, 2003
Better blogged than never
You know it’s a real phenomenon when it gets spoofed in The Onion.
Having said that, I was about to apologize for the recent inactivity when I realized that I’m not alone. Many of my fellow bloggers are behind the times, and mine is not the most out of date. So pppthtth.
My excuse is the same old tired one about being up to my eyeballs in correcting and planning. There are exactly 12 school days left before the end of the semester – and for my 101 class, that means only 5 classes. There is no way I’ll have time to teach them everything they need to know! In retrospect, I guess I should have started discussing poetry earlier in the semester, but in my defense, it sucks. Ah well, live and learn (or not, in the case of my students).
Not all poetry sucks, of course. I do like limericks. And the best part of being the teacher is I get to choose what we’re reading, so I can skip the namby-pamby Wordsworthian fluff and get right into the meatier Blake and Auden.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Saturday, November 15, 2003
What government funded research is doing these days:
Proving that Kansas is flatter than a pancake.

The philosophical implications alone are staggering.
Thursday, November 13, 2003
There’s something in the hair
First I was a brunette. Then a blonde. Then a brunette again.
And now for something completely different:

Monday, November 10, 2003
Still learning something new everyday
I’m once again up to my eyeballs in corrections. This week, it’s the final exam for my Prep students, including essays, and another essay for my 101 students.
Part of the final exam is reading comprehension, based on a short text by Timothy Findley in which a father commits suicide by jumping off a bridge while his son looks on. One of the exam questions is, essentially, why. One student wrote that the “father had good reasons and he wanted to commit suicide. It was not a one day pansy.”
I am assuming the student meant ‘a passing fancy.’ Nonetheless, I love it. I vote we adopt it into the language immediately.
Another dream that will never come true…
The Concorde’s last flight has come and gone. My dad forwarded some pix from the final flight.

Tuesday, November 04, 2003
First the bad news:
It’s friggin snowing.
The good news: I have managed to get through all my corrections.
The bad news: Another in-class essay to correct today, for tomorrow. And another one will be written in-class on Thursday. And an exam, including an essay, will be written Friday.
The good news: It’s official – I will be teaching two courses next semester, both on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I will be able to leave home Tuesday morning, and go home Thursday afternoon. So, good to be working, and good to be home more often.

Thursday, October 30, 2003
Hep, hep, I’m drowning
Anyone want to volunteer to correct 78 essays, 30 grammar tests, 28 paragraphs on theme, and a few random exercises?
Sigh.
My life is a blur of red ink.
Thankfully, I have not encountered Sir Firstival so far. On the other hand, I’m valiantly fighting the dreaded sore throat dragon all by myself. To add to the tension, my Prep Plus students are writing their Prep exam next Friday, and I think I’m more nervous than they are about the results.
Wurstival, Dr. T got home from Malaysia Sunday afternoon, and I left for Lennoxville Sunday evening. So he’s finally home, and I’m not. TGTIF.
Thursday, October 23, 2003
Scrabble Update
Well, the results are in: Dr. T is officially the 37th best Scrabble player in the world!!
The first and second place finishers, who will play a best-of-five final tomorrow, are both Thai. The best Canadian was Dave, who placed 16th, followed closely by Joel Wapnick in 17th. Dave and Joel are Montrealers, too – the fourth Montrealer, Emmanuel, finished in 81st place.
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
Scrabble Update
Dr. T has moved up to 26th place after 15 rounds.
The top Canadian at the moment is Dave Boys, in 7th place.
Regular play is scheduled to end with the 24th round tomorrow, but it seems they only played seven games today (in the middle of our night, that is), so I’m not sure what their plan is.
Watch this space!
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
Scrabble Update
After the first day of play, Dr. T is in 30th place (field of 90), having won 5 of his eight games.
The top Canadians are Dave and Joel (both former World Champs, and both members of the Montreal Club, where, it seems, there’s something in the water). The fourth Montrealer, Emmanuel, is not doing as well, but there are 16 games to go!
Saturday, October 18, 2003
Sigh
Dr. T is on the other side of the planet. He’s playing in the 2003 World Scrabble Championship in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Play begins Tuesday morning (which is Monday evening for us) – updates should be available on the link provided herein above heretofore nonetheless whereat.
This means not only two weekends without my man, but also random fits of jealousy and resentment because he gets to go way far away, and stay in this hotel:

In the words of Bill the Cat, pththththwpth.
Kick ass, and hurry home.
Friday, October 17, 2003
Proof of Purpose
One of my colleagues, who’s been teaching for close to twenty years, reported a brand new act of terrorism committed upon the language by a student in a recent essay:
Firstival.
As in “first of all.”
I kind of like it – especially as a Round Table name – Sir Firstival.
Ah, there’s nothing like a renewed sense of purpose. Some one has to stop these random acts of linguistic violence.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Not that we’re into propaganda or anything…
Soldiers in the 2nd Battalion of the 503rd Airborne Infantry Regiment have been bombarding (no pun intended (oh, who am I kidding)) American newspapers with letters extolling the virtues of working in Iraq.
These letters are filled with positive, upbeat reports of how quickly things are moving ahead. So quickly, it turns out, that the individual soldiers didn’t have time to write individual letters. Thankfully, their command staff stepped in, whipped up a form letter, and all the overworked soldiers had to do was sign their names.
Somehow, though, the American newspapers discovered the snow job, and aren’t impressed.
Soul Food
Amnesty International (the local branch, I assume) are having a bake sale on campus today. Activism never tasted so good!
In other news
It looks pretty definite that I’ll be teaching two courses next semester. One of these will be English for Special Care Counselling – this is the “How to Write a Research Paper” sequel to the “How to Write an Essay” Intro course I’m teaching this semester. But Course #2 is my very own course!
I’ll be teaching a second-year course on Montreal authors. My biggest dilemma so far is who to exclude. We are a prolific island. Naturally, I’ll do my best to include Bill.
Did I mention that I am the featured New Teacher on the college web site? I hope this doesn’t count as my 15 minutes.
And can I just reiterate that I am definitely the least photogenic person on the planet? I should have a certificate or something.
Friday, October 10, 2003
Haiku-ku-ka-ju
See Hiroshima leaves on the road bed
Winter is a-comin’ in.
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
An interesting British study…
A recent scientific study found that the kind of male face a woman finds attractive can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. For instance, if she is ovulating she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features. And if she is menstruating, she is likely to prefer a man doused in petrol and set on fire, with scissors shoved deep into his temple and a cricket stump jammed up his arse.
Thanks very much to my friend Mark.
Monday, October 06, 2003
Does Linus own a tux?
It’s the Great Pumpkin Ball!
(My alternative approach was to make a joke involving Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater and foreplay.)

Dr. T and I attended his high school reunion this weekend. I’ve been toying with the idea of returning my hair to its natural colour (if we can remember what that is). Dr. T’s reaction? ‘Please wait until after the reunion. I want a blonde trophy wife.’
The reunion was loads of fun, which is good, since it could have been a total yawnfest for me. As it turns out, he went to school with some very nice people, many of whom are now rather scarily grey and do not look at all like they were ever teenagers. Eavesdropping on the various conversations, however, quickly puts it in perspective. Room full of middle-aged, married, Volvo-driving people, all engaged in variations on the same theme:
Remember when we got completely wasted and trashed your dad’s car?
No.*
Man, that was a blast.
*Alternatively, yes.
Scariest part of the event – discovering that Dr. T’s contemporary is about to become a grandfather. And that it’s mathematically possible. Yoiks.

This fall, I will be teaching two courses at Champlain Lennoxville. Unfortunately, this means spending 13 weeks living away from home – but the good news is I’ll be racking up experience at the CEGEP level, and that gets me that much closer to a permanent position closer to home.
The time away won’t be so bad, either – my super-fantabulous mum-in-law has offered to come stay with my boys for the duration (she was planning a two-month visit around then, anyway, and this is really just an extension). I’ll be home for weekends, and one of the teachers in the department has a room to rent, so I won’t be stuck with a year-long lease or paying for weeks that I’m not in residence.
I’ll be teaching an intensive Prep. for College English class that incorporates the Intro to Lit course requirements into a “mise-a-niveau” course, aimed at bringing students up to an acceptable level of reading and writing. For many of these students, English is a second (or third) language, so the course will feature lots of grammar (yay…) and writing.
The second course is a basic Intro to Lit course, in which I’ll actually be able to teach real literature!!! Muahaha.
All told, I’ll be teaching 11 hours a week, which is one hour short of a full load. Happy happy joy joy 🙂

1. Robert rides Cobweb, a lovely old man who was very patient with our boys.
2. The sheep – it wouldn’t be the Cotswolds without them. You’ll note that it’s lambing time.
3. Colin on Cobweb.
4. Nicole and Adam’s herd come galloping in for some hay.
5. Robert looming large in the model village at Bourton-on-the-Water.
6. Colin rides Ben, who is magnificent, despite a rather bad hair cut.
7. Colin rides Adam. Thank goodness he’s wearing a helmet.

Many people have been asking about the relative cost of living in the UK. The best example I can find of how good we have it here in Canada is this:
It costs me about 45$ to fill my tank at a gas station in Montreal.
In the UK, outside London, the same amount of gas would cost me about 103$.
Granted, one’s UK salary would be higher – but not proportionally. The daily pay for a school teacher outside London is about 90 pounds, or just over 200$. In the Montreal area, that teacher would make about 120$ a day. So gas is 2.3X more expensive, but the salary is only 1.7X higher.
I hate math.

From the CNN web site: The space shuttle Columbia, with seven astronauts aboard, broke up as it descended over central Texas today before a planned landing at Kennedy Space Center in Florida. A Bush administration spokesman said the shuttle’s altitude — over 200,000 feet — made it “highly unlikely” that the shuttle fell victim to a terrorist act.
I find it almost as sad that CNN feels it necessary to address the terrorist connection in the second line of the lead paragraph. I remember the Challenger – in many ways, I feel that the Challenger disaster was a defining moment for my generation – and I don’t recall there being much talk of terrorist activities in connection with the disaster. In fact, I recently came across a terrifying essay on how the Challenger disaster was allowed to happen because no one wants to be the bearer of bad news; several levels of authority either hid, ignored, or spun test results that suggested the O-rings were unreliable in certain conditions, namely, the conditions of the Challenger launch.
Watching CNN this morning brought back many emotions from 1986. I guess the difference this time is that we know it can happen; in ’86, the shuttle was new and symbolic of technological advance and humanity’s progress, at least as seen through the eyes of a 16-year-old. I found it hard to be as affected this morning, especially with the “terrorist act” thing. Okay, I can see why current events would perhaps lead one to speculate, and the presence of Col. Ilan Ramon, the first Israeli astronaut, was cause enough for concern for NASA to provide extra security for the shuttle prior to launch.
Pehaps such speculation and concern is justifiable; but on one level I can’t help but feel that just the mention of it in this context is all part of the Wag the Dog scenario Bush et al are inhabiting.
Hubby made a very interesting, poignant point: the Challenger astronauts never had a chance; the Columbia crew got to have 16 days in heaven. Let’s hope that’s where they have returned, and may their souls forever soar.

I love my car!
I taught in Boucherville yesterday and today, and I am so indescribably happy to be able to drive there and back! I may even indulge in excessive use of exclamation points! Woohoo!
On my way home today, I stopped at Canadian Tire, bought new Teflon wiper blades and this new Teflon windshield wiper washer fluid. I can not only see better, I can now bake cookies on my windshield.
Oh, and just for fun – try saying “windshield wiper washer fluid” ten times, fast.

Mine is a long, sad tale…
Shortly before the holidays, I got a call from La Cite College in Ottawa, asking if I was interested in teaching their Business English Cont. Ed. class. I agreed, and shuffled off to Ottawa to meet with the coordinator of the program.
While I was there, she contacted my references. After speaking with my former boss and with the people at Concordia, she said that rather than the Business English class, she wanted to offer me a course called Correspondance Anglaise – because she didn’t think I had enough teaching experience to handle the original course. So whatever my references said must have been stellar. Just kidding, really – I know that Andre has a very good opinion of me (God only knows why), and the coordinator told me herself that the Concordia people told her my teaching evaluations are very positive. Essentially, she said that it was the 5 year gap in my experience as a teacher that made her worry.
Anyway, I said I would accept the second course, and left expecting a call regarding the contract and some other details.
On Monday, I called and left a message with her, since no one had called me to sign my contract, and classes start January 13. She finally returned my call Tuesday, only to tell me that due to a lack of registration, they were cancelling the Correspondance Anglaise course. But, she said, they needed a teacher for a conversational English class, if I was interested.
Keeping in mind that the whole point behind taking any position in Ottawa, a two-hour drive away, is to establish some recent college-level experience, in the hopes of landing some teaching positions closer to home, I said yes, I was interested. The first class meets tomorrow, so the plan was I would arrive early, get the course outline, and sign my contract.
Now the problem was that this class meets two nights a week – the first and second ones offered met only once a week. Originally, my plan was to work out some kind of deal with a car rental place, having investigated the bus and train options and deciding that renting a car was comparably priced and way more convenient. But to go to and from Ottawa two times a week, along with driving to and from Boucherville for the substitute teaching gig, I decided that we had to bite the bullet and invest in a second car.
This is the fun part.
I called my dad (as many of you know, an expert of superb qualifications car-wise) for advice. He called his friendly Subaru dealer – so far, my mother, my sister, and my brother currently drive Subarus, and this has been the case for about 17 years. I was the last hold out. Meanwhile, Andrew called the bank to arrange a loan, based on my web surfing, to plonk down about $7000 on a reasonable car from the mid-90s.
Wednesday afternoon, after teaching in Boucherville, I went in to the Subaru dealer and had a chat. He said he might have a lead on a really good deal – a 1990 Subaru with 68,000 km (that’s 42,450 miles).
Thursday, I called him again, to see whether or not he had any news. He did – the car was at that very moment being inspected by his team, and I test drove later the same day. It was great! So, Thursday evening, Andrew and I went in to have a number-crunching talk with the dealer, which resulted in a really, really good deal – all told, taxes in, we got the car for under $2500. I picked it up Friday afternoon.
This is the stupid part.
I drive home from the dealer in my new car (yay!), congratulating myself on how quickly and how well this all fell into place. I get home to find a message on my voice mail – any guesses?
The coordinator from Ottawa called while I was handing over a wad of hundred dollar bills to Subaru. Lack of registration – course cancelled.
I’m staying very positive about this, given that I still have a new (old) car that I got for about $5000 less than I had expected. I took it and the kids out to my dad’s place yesterday – with a terror of Dad taking one look at the car and saying something like “why’d’ya buy a 13-year-old car, you idiot.”
This did not transpire. In fact, Dad took it out for a spin and came back to tell me I made the best deal ever, the car was great, and drove and felt like a new car. His only complaint was that some moron had installed a vent-mounted air freshener, and that I should remove it ASAP. Of course, since I’m the moron who installed it, I have no intention of getting rid of it.
I love my car! It has everything – great sound system, sunroof, cruise (not that I will ever use it), power locks and windows, A-C… and the dealer, to whom I’m thinking of erecting a shrine, included in the price the following: complete tune-up, new discs and pads, new battery, and new snow tires on separate rims. All’s well that ends well.

Today was Robert’s Christmas party. After the party, I took the kids with me to the mall to do some last-minute shopping. Santa, who had already made an appearance at the school party, was at the mall, too, so we stopped to say hello.
First Robert sat on his knee, then Colin, and then Santa said “Maybe Mummy would like something from Santa too – would Mummy like to sit on my lap?”
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and he’s a dirty old man. I said no, thank you. Does this mean I’ll be getting coal in my fishnets?