I found that blog (I love people who don't update their blog rolls. Seriously): http://professorme.blogspot.com/
A big thank you to the Grumpies for introducing the Hull family to Gunnerkrigg! Sir John stayed up till the small hours were no longer so very small, reading it. I'm still going through the archives very, very slowly because I don't want it ever to end.
Leonard Cohen is bringing out a new album. And he's releasing it on vinyl as well as on CD. I'm not actually such a geek as to get the vinyl version, but I love that there are such geeks and that Leonard is catering to them.
Someone left a link to Apartment Therapy in the comments to New Kid's decorating post. Cool stuff. Only I think you'd really have to get rid of a lot of stuff before their ideas would work, and that is precisely the hard part. I also read with great interest the post on how to pack lightly for a trip, as I always enjoy such advice, but, again as usual, I found that I actually pack lighter than the advisors do. That is, when I'm flying I pack that lightly. Driving to Kalamazoo? You'd think I was moving in.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
25 January 2012
11 July 2011
Home again, home again
"Well, I'm back," she said.
No, no, that was the end of the story. We're not done yet. I have two weeks to work, and then a brief vacation, and then three more weeks to work before classes start. It only feels like summer is almost over. Five weeks is a good bit of time. I can finish the article-in-progress, and review a manuscript, and plan my fall classes, in that time. I even believe that. It's all the other stuff that I keep forgetting about that may derail me: conference organizing, house stuff, rec letters, and so on.
The trip was good. Intense, but good. All potential travel problems, like booking a train ticket for the wrong day (well after my flight home) resolved themselves. I achieved the things that had to happen in London, Cambridge, Lewes, and York; the conference paper got done and delivered; I finally had lunch in the BL with ADM; on my last night I stayed with a friend from grad school (and her niece and niece's boyfriend—in a 2-room flat—it was a bit undergraduate) and we got to catch up a bit. I have photographs. I have transcriptions. I have plans for lots of interesting work.
The cats seemed glad to see me, especially Basement Cat, who groomed my hands and arms very thoroughly yesterday. Today is a rest day in the Tour de France, so that gives us a chance to catch up. I keep getting too sleepy to stay up, so we still have half of yesterday's stage to finish. I'll try to post something more interesting soon.
No, no, that was the end of the story. We're not done yet. I have two weeks to work, and then a brief vacation, and then three more weeks to work before classes start. It only feels like summer is almost over. Five weeks is a good bit of time. I can finish the article-in-progress, and review a manuscript, and plan my fall classes, in that time. I even believe that. It's all the other stuff that I keep forgetting about that may derail me: conference organizing, house stuff, rec letters, and so on.
The trip was good. Intense, but good. All potential travel problems, like booking a train ticket for the wrong day (well after my flight home) resolved themselves. I achieved the things that had to happen in London, Cambridge, Lewes, and York; the conference paper got done and delivered; I finally had lunch in the BL with ADM; on my last night I stayed with a friend from grad school (and her niece and niece's boyfriend—in a 2-room flat—it was a bit undergraduate) and we got to catch up a bit. I have photographs. I have transcriptions. I have plans for lots of interesting work.
The cats seemed glad to see me, especially Basement Cat, who groomed my hands and arms very thoroughly yesterday. Today is a rest day in the Tour de France, so that gives us a chance to catch up. I keep getting too sleepy to stay up, so we still have half of yesterday's stage to finish. I'll try to post something more interesting soon.
23 June 2011
Chance is a fine thing
OMG. I have just spent hours making final travel arrangements for my trip to the UK, when I should have been/wanted to be working on my various papers. I had one night unaccounted for; I didn't think it would be difficult to find somewhere suitable, but it was a weekend night, and I think I ran into two-night minimums at a lot of places. The obvious thing seemed to be to stay in London near the station I'd be traveling out of the next day, but all the hotels I tried (online) showed no vacancies, and the alternatives I got offered were northwards of 150 quid. I don't think so, thanks.
Since nowhere in England is so very far from anywhere else, I'll be staying in the south, near where I'm rambling around that day. The next day's travel is still very manageable. The hotel I booked looks quite attractive. The one negative online review was from a man who complained because when he left the window open, the cat came in. Some folks don't know when they're well off.
The hotel response was even more encouraging: though they don't keep a hotel cat, there are eight cats in the near vicinity.
Do you think I need to leave an open can of tuna in my room, or will catnip likely be sufficient?
Since nowhere in England is so very far from anywhere else, I'll be staying in the south, near where I'm rambling around that day. The next day's travel is still very manageable. The hotel I booked looks quite attractive. The one negative online review was from a man who complained because when he left the window open, the cat came in. Some folks don't know when they're well off.
The hotel response was even more encouraging: though they don't keep a hotel cat, there are eight cats in the near vicinity.
Do you think I need to leave an open can of tuna in my room, or will catnip likely be sufficient?
10 June 2011
Travel plans
I found out this week that next summer, I will be teaching in one of LRU's summer-abroad programs, in the UK. Woot and all that—yes, it's awesome, and it's been 10 years since I got to do this, but as I've done it before and have a good friend who does it more often, I know that it is also a lot of work and a whole lot of interaction (morning noon and night) with students. In some ways, that can be a very good thing, but if you get a difficult person on the trip, it can turn nightmarish. And one has to be even more extremely focused and goal-oriented than at home in order to get any scholarly work done, even with one of the world's great libraries right down the street, because there are so many distractions, of both the teacherly and the historical/cultural kind.
But I am pleased, and I am trying to think about next summer's research (and conferences), and the class I'll be teaching, even as I begin to panic about this summer's work (more on that shortly). What will I be likely to be working on in a year's time?
As for actual travel plans, the trip that is still a year off keeps bleeding into the one that is coming up much sooner, as I think about what to pack, what arrangements to make, and how to get organized. Even at Kalamazoo, I had strong reasons to believe that the next-summer trip would happen; and unfortunately, I think knowing about it helped me procrastinate on things like booking places to stay this summer, because, of course, next year I'll have a place to stay, no booking necessary on my part. I'm bad about these things anyway, because I am so afraid of flying that anything that reminds me I will be flying creates considerable anxiety. So, although I arranged for my flight months ago, I put off dealing with the rest of the trip, hoping there would come a day when I felt stronger . . . . Well, there came a day, yesterday, when I was too panicky about the possibility of not having somewhere to stay that I faced up to the task. Panic strength works, too.
So I'm staying where I wanted to in London; and somewhere more expensive (but probably nicer) in the UK's Second City than I probably would if I'd booked months ago (query: do I delay on purpose so I have an excuse to stay in nicer hotels?); and have e-mailed a B&B elsewhere about availability. I really hope this last place comes through, because they have a cat. It would be nice to be able to indulge my addiction to felines while I'm gone.
This means that now I am free to panic over the conference paper (and oh boy am I doing that well, or at least plentifully). And, more generally, panic about trying to achieve as much as possible in the next 10 weeks because, once classes start, I will have only fairly short breaks between teaching responsibilities for the following 21 months.
One reason I like to get up early to write is that my conscious mind hasn't fully kicked in with all its anxieties. Another is so that I can get something done before Irritating People and Life Events can start getting in the way. Yesterday I got a bit of a late start; at least I read and took notes on an essay before the day started to go downhill. An unexpected House Thing required an urgent trip to the hardware store and time dealing with the Thing; an expected House Maintenance Guy did not show up in his window of opportunity, which meant a call to the company to complain and reschedule, and time hanging around the house (trying to work but getting distracted) when I could have been driving to campus or going to the gym. I achieved the most urgent things on campus, but stayed late to do so, and so I was up late last night, and then slept late and am dragging today.
Today, then, I think I need to do easy things, like taking notes and organizing bibliographies. Stuff that's useful but not brain-intensive. And hit the gym.
But I am pleased, and I am trying to think about next summer's research (and conferences), and the class I'll be teaching, even as I begin to panic about this summer's work (more on that shortly). What will I be likely to be working on in a year's time?
As for actual travel plans, the trip that is still a year off keeps bleeding into the one that is coming up much sooner, as I think about what to pack, what arrangements to make, and how to get organized. Even at Kalamazoo, I had strong reasons to believe that the next-summer trip would happen; and unfortunately, I think knowing about it helped me procrastinate on things like booking places to stay this summer, because, of course, next year I'll have a place to stay, no booking necessary on my part. I'm bad about these things anyway, because I am so afraid of flying that anything that reminds me I will be flying creates considerable anxiety. So, although I arranged for my flight months ago, I put off dealing with the rest of the trip, hoping there would come a day when I felt stronger . . . . Well, there came a day, yesterday, when I was too panicky about the possibility of not having somewhere to stay that I faced up to the task. Panic strength works, too.
So I'm staying where I wanted to in London; and somewhere more expensive (but probably nicer) in the UK's Second City than I probably would if I'd booked months ago (query: do I delay on purpose so I have an excuse to stay in nicer hotels?); and have e-mailed a B&B elsewhere about availability. I really hope this last place comes through, because they have a cat. It would be nice to be able to indulge my addiction to felines while I'm gone.
This means that now I am free to panic over the conference paper (and oh boy am I doing that well, or at least plentifully). And, more generally, panic about trying to achieve as much as possible in the next 10 weeks because, once classes start, I will have only fairly short breaks between teaching responsibilities for the following 21 months.
One reason I like to get up early to write is that my conscious mind hasn't fully kicked in with all its anxieties. Another is so that I can get something done before Irritating People and Life Events can start getting in the way. Yesterday I got a bit of a late start; at least I read and took notes on an essay before the day started to go downhill. An unexpected House Thing required an urgent trip to the hardware store and time dealing with the Thing; an expected House Maintenance Guy did not show up in his window of opportunity, which meant a call to the company to complain and reschedule, and time hanging around the house (trying to work but getting distracted) when I could have been driving to campus or going to the gym. I achieved the most urgent things on campus, but stayed late to do so, and so I was up late last night, and then slept late and am dragging today.
Today, then, I think I need to do easy things, like taking notes and organizing bibliographies. Stuff that's useful but not brain-intensive. And hit the gym.
06 June 2011
Starting out well
After reading all the comments here, I decided I should listen to Trevelia, Notorious Ph.D., and myself, and get myself onto my Ideal Schedule. Ideal Schedule has the added advantage of being good jet-lag-reduction preparation for my trip to England: if I'm going to bed at 3:00 a.m. Greenwich time, and getting up at noon there, it's a little easier to adapt than if I were going to bed at 6:00 a.m. Greenwich and getting up in mid-afternoon.
Even if I manage to shift back to 2:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m. in the last few days before I leave, there will still be jet lag. It just isn't so cruel as it might be.
Anyway, I got to my desk by 6:00 a.m. local time, and today I have outlined another mini-essay section of the Summer Submission Project (suspiciously easily: will this one break down when I go to write it?), done some translating, begun to assemble bibliography for the better-read-fast conference paper (including putting in ILL requests), and taken some notes for the Pedagogical Project. That's an excellent day's work. Now it's time to stretch and exercise and enjoy a summer's day for awhile, before it's time to cook dinner and watch some cycling. And remember to go to bed early. That's the hardest part of the Ideal Schedule. I wish I could do without sleep, but that never works for me.
I'm hoping to get all the mini-essay chunks outlined this week. Also to finish 1000 lines of very very rough translation, and begin the polishing process. There must be more reading and note-taking. Much more. Starting tomorrow.
Even if I manage to shift back to 2:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m. in the last few days before I leave, there will still be jet lag. It just isn't so cruel as it might be.
Anyway, I got to my desk by 6:00 a.m. local time, and today I have outlined another mini-essay section of the Summer Submission Project (suspiciously easily: will this one break down when I go to write it?), done some translating, begun to assemble bibliography for the better-read-fast conference paper (including putting in ILL requests), and taken some notes for the Pedagogical Project. That's an excellent day's work. Now it's time to stretch and exercise and enjoy a summer's day for awhile, before it's time to cook dinner and watch some cycling. And remember to go to bed early. That's the hardest part of the Ideal Schedule. I wish I could do without sleep, but that never works for me.
I'm hoping to get all the mini-essay chunks outlined this week. Also to finish 1000 lines of very very rough translation, and begin the polishing process. There must be more reading and note-taking. Much more. Starting tomorrow.
07 November 2010
Fora words of wisdom
"It's no use caring about their grades more than they do."
Remember.
Apply.
Do not stop to wonder why they are repeating errors from their earlier papers when not only did I mark the errors then, I allot class time for students to read through their comments, ask questions about them, and make a list of things they are going to try to do better on their next paper.
It may be no use, but I'm pretty sure I do care about their grades more than they do.
On a more cheerful note, I've also been reading the auto ethnographer's blog, and though I am green with envy at the pictures of the sabbatical house and town, it also makes me happy to fantasize a similar situation for myself someday.
Either I have miscounted these papers, or an awful lot of people turned them in online but not in hard copy, or didn't turn them in at all. I don't think I'm going to finish today, but there is hope of being done by Wednesday's classes: another cheerful thought.
Five-minutes-later update: D'oh! I found the rest of the papers. Gah. Clearly grading, or something, is affecting my brain.
Remember.
Apply.
Do not stop to wonder why they are repeating errors from their earlier papers when not only did I mark the errors then, I allot class time for students to read through their comments, ask questions about them, and make a list of things they are going to try to do better on their next paper.
It may be no use, but I'm pretty sure I do care about their grades more than they do.
On a more cheerful note, I've also been reading the auto ethnographer's blog, and though I am green with envy at the pictures of the sabbatical house and town, it also makes me happy to fantasize a similar situation for myself someday.
Either I have miscounted these papers, or an awful lot of people turned them in online but not in hard copy, or didn't turn them in at all. I don't think I'm going to finish today, but there is hope of being done by Wednesday's classes: another cheerful thought.
Five-minutes-later update: D'oh! I found the rest of the papers. Gah. Clearly grading, or something, is affecting my brain.
16 July 2009
Home again, home again
Here are some pictures from my travels.They're not from the same place.
If I weren't so jetlagged, I'd get the camera, download the last set, and give you one more. But I'm too tired . . . .
Usually, I have more trouble with jet lag when travelling east to west than west to east. This trip was the other way round: easy adapting to England, and a struggle coming home. Let's just say it's a good thing I like mornings, but that I'm about ready for bed now (not yet 5:00 p.m. in my time zone).
I did have a good idea this morning, about shaping the essay I'm developing from my two most recent conference papers. Then much of the rest of the day went to laundry, groceries, errands, bill-paying, cat care, all those oh-right-there's-a-life-here things that have to get done. I had hopes of getting to a library this afternoon to start looking into it, but now I'm thinking tomorrow for that.
One of the things I love about going to the U.K. is never having to drive. Coming home, I'm back into the driving culture with a vengeance. Ugh. I'm having fantasies of moving to some seaside university town, say Swansea, where I could live car-free and get sand in my toes every day. I'm sure there are reasons people might fantasize about living where I live. After I take a little nap, maybe I'll think of some.
06 July 2009
Checking in
I'm in my fourth library in a week. If this is Monday, it must be Cambridge.
This trip is very focused: one manuscript per library. I wish I were here longer, both for the sake of more research and for the sake of having a bit of fun. A colleague of mine is spending three months in the U.K. this summer, and when she talks about theatre in London and some of her walking excursions, I feel twinges of envy. But I don't want to leave Sir John alone with all the cats for too long. They are more than a handful, especially Basement Cat. (From what Sir John says, BC seems somewhat chastened by my absence; but maybe it's just that Sir John is more authoritarian than I am.)
Fortunately I am not getting many twinges from my ankle, or only when I've done a lot of walking.
My colleague and I had a lovely tea in Oxford, with sandwiches, scones, cake, biscuits and champagne, over the weekend.
Other than that, it's pretty much all work and no play. I saw Another Damned Medievalist in the BL last week, but we couldn't quite get organized to do anything. I read a novel on the coach from Oxford to Cambridge yesterday, if that counts.
This trip is very focused: one manuscript per library. I wish I were here longer, both for the sake of more research and for the sake of having a bit of fun. A colleague of mine is spending three months in the U.K. this summer, and when she talks about theatre in London and some of her walking excursions, I feel twinges of envy. But I don't want to leave Sir John alone with all the cats for too long. They are more than a handful, especially Basement Cat. (From what Sir John says, BC seems somewhat chastened by my absence; but maybe it's just that Sir John is more authoritarian than I am.)
Fortunately I am not getting many twinges from my ankle, or only when I've done a lot of walking.
My colleague and I had a lovely tea in Oxford, with sandwiches, scones, cake, biscuits and champagne, over the weekend.
Other than that, it's pretty much all work and no play. I saw Another Damned Medievalist in the BL last week, but we couldn't quite get organized to do anything. I read a novel on the coach from Oxford to Cambridge yesterday, if that counts.
29 June 2009
Bracing up
We will draw a veil over the months of intermittent pain, and the recent visit to a very annoying orthopedist who needs training in how to listen and how to answer questions. The bottom line is that for the next two weeks I will be laced into what I am trying to think of as an ankle corset.
A corset, after all, can be sexy, an object of fantasy and fetish. Much more attractive than a brace.
But when you think about the basic purpose of corsets, it gets hard to keep up the fantasy. They constrict; they make it hard to move at a brisk or even normal pace. If worn, now, as outer wear, they are clearly costume. If worn for their original purpose, modern clothing does not fit well over them; once more, you wind up in costume.
And this is what is happening to me, and my plans for an English travel wardrobe. Most of my shoes, particularly those I was going to take with me, do not fit once I'm laced into the ankle corset. It hides under trousers, but looks fairly awful with a skirt. Part of me says, "Who cares? Dress as you like down to the ankles, and then if you're in brace and special shoes, it's clear you're making an effort despite your impairment." And part of me says, "I'd rather hide it. I cannot bring myself to wear athletic shoes with a skirt, in London, where most people are well dressed."
So I went shopping. Instead of a skirt, I'm taking another pair of trousers, and I bought two pair of shoes that are flat, hideous, comfortable, and not white with colored trim. One pair of black lace-ups, work shoes, the next thing to hiking shoes; one pair of brown Mary Janes, with bold stitching and wide toes, cute if you like sporty German-style casual shoes, which I'm not usually a fan of. I'm more the penny-loafer type. But I need flat shoes that can both accommodate the brace and fit the unbraced foot, hence lace-ups and adjustable straps. And multiple pairs of socks.
I thought about substituting a pair of lace-up boots for the brace; then I could have gone neo-Victorian in style: a little costume-y, but within academic tolerances, and perhaps not inappropriate for my itinerary. But the ones I have don't lace high enough, and it is not a good time of year to buy boots in local stores. There wasn't time to order online and take delivery before I leave. So I'm bracing myself.
It's not as if anyone is going to notice or care. It's just that I tend to deal with my travel anxiety by obsessing over the clothes I pack, and I dislike having the plan disrupted at the last minute.
A corset, after all, can be sexy, an object of fantasy and fetish. Much more attractive than a brace.
But when you think about the basic purpose of corsets, it gets hard to keep up the fantasy. They constrict; they make it hard to move at a brisk or even normal pace. If worn, now, as outer wear, they are clearly costume. If worn for their original purpose, modern clothing does not fit well over them; once more, you wind up in costume.
And this is what is happening to me, and my plans for an English travel wardrobe. Most of my shoes, particularly those I was going to take with me, do not fit once I'm laced into the ankle corset. It hides under trousers, but looks fairly awful with a skirt. Part of me says, "Who cares? Dress as you like down to the ankles, and then if you're in brace and special shoes, it's clear you're making an effort despite your impairment." And part of me says, "I'd rather hide it. I cannot bring myself to wear athletic shoes with a skirt, in London, where most people are well dressed."
So I went shopping. Instead of a skirt, I'm taking another pair of trousers, and I bought two pair of shoes that are flat, hideous, comfortable, and not white with colored trim. One pair of black lace-ups, work shoes, the next thing to hiking shoes; one pair of brown Mary Janes, with bold stitching and wide toes, cute if you like sporty German-style casual shoes, which I'm not usually a fan of. I'm more the penny-loafer type. But I need flat shoes that can both accommodate the brace and fit the unbraced foot, hence lace-ups and adjustable straps. And multiple pairs of socks.
I thought about substituting a pair of lace-up boots for the brace; then I could have gone neo-Victorian in style: a little costume-y, but within academic tolerances, and perhaps not inappropriate for my itinerary. But the ones I have don't lace high enough, and it is not a good time of year to buy boots in local stores. There wasn't time to order online and take delivery before I leave. So I'm bracing myself.
It's not as if anyone is going to notice or care. It's just that I tend to deal with my travel anxiety by obsessing over the clothes I pack, and I dislike having the plan disrupted at the last minute.
23 June 2009
Itinerary
30 June - 3 July: London
3 - 5 July: Oxford
5 - 8 July: Cambridge
8 - 13 July: Exeter
Overlapping dates are travel days, starting one place and ending up in the other.
If anybody overlaps with me anywhere, and would like a blogger meet-up, drop me a line.
3 - 5 July: Oxford
5 - 8 July: Cambridge
8 - 13 July: Exeter
Overlapping dates are travel days, starting one place and ending up in the other.
If anybody overlaps with me anywhere, and would like a blogger meet-up, drop me a line.
13 June 2009
Booked
Got a flight. Not on an Airbus. Making the distinction is probably pointless, but allows me to assert a smidgen of control as I yield my life into the hands of engineers, mechanics, pilots, and whatever other personnel can influence whether I live or die on my next trip through the air.
(Query: is space opera my version of horror fiction? Is dying outside planetary atmosphere really any worse?)
Next I'll have to organize places to stay in London and Cambridge, since I'm not actually planning to die before I get there (the scholar's maximum horror: I will find out something crucial and die on the way home, before I can do anything about it!). Oxford and Exeter are taken care of already. I have a couple of familiar London hotels to contact, but I've never been to Cambridge: any advice, either about lodging or dealing with CUL?
(Ignore the jitters. I always do this. This is what Xanax is for. Better research through chemistry.)
(Query: is space opera my version of horror fiction? Is dying outside planetary atmosphere really any worse?)
Next I'll have to organize places to stay in London and Cambridge, since I'm not actually planning to die before I get there (the scholar's maximum horror: I will find out something crucial and die on the way home, before I can do anything about it!). Oxford and Exeter are taken care of already. I have a couple of familiar London hotels to contact, but I've never been to Cambridge: any advice, either about lodging or dealing with CUL?
(Ignore the jitters. I always do this. This is what Xanax is for. Better research through chemistry.)
02 June 2009
Bad timing
So I'm supposed to be going to England in about a month, or maybe less, yet I still have not booked a flight. I tend to put these things off, because I'm afraid of flying. I understand the physics; I recognize that terrorism doesn't happen very often; what I fear is mechanical error, systems errors, pilot error.
I woke up this morning and thought OK, I'm going to do it.
Brought in the newspaper, and saw the Air France 447 coverage.
I haven't done it.
The last week has not been a good one. I had a birthday, the first one since my mother died; no one I'm biologically related to remembered it. I attended the funeral of a friend's father. I can't find various important receipts (probably due to the parentally-induced brain trauma of the past year), and my study is a wreck. I need to start the summer over, but I feel more like going back to bed with a pile of space-opera sci-fi and pretending that my real career involves translation from alien languages, interstellar diplomacy, and shooting bad guys with tentacles.
I woke up this morning and thought OK, I'm going to do it.
Brought in the newspaper, and saw the Air France 447 coverage.
I haven't done it.
The last week has not been a good one. I had a birthday, the first one since my mother died; no one I'm biologically related to remembered it. I attended the funeral of a friend's father. I can't find various important receipts (probably due to the parentally-induced brain trauma of the past year), and my study is a wreck. I need to start the summer over, but I feel more like going back to bed with a pile of space-opera sci-fi and pretending that my real career involves translation from alien languages, interstellar diplomacy, and shooting bad guys with tentacles.
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