I was so worn out after last semester, it's taken me almost this long to feel any kind of normal. I'm not even prepared for classes to begin tomorrow!
Oh, well, time marches on and we must press on. I keep telling myself that by this time next year, I'll have the BA and be starting grad classes!
I keep telling myself that all of this will be so worth it.
Wonder if I'll find my motivation next week.
Anyone have any upbeat tune suggestions for getting up in the mornings?
I know I've written about this before. It's one of those things that really bite me in the behind every single year. And I have to say that usually what pisses me off most is the fact that I forget just one little thing each time.
This year I'm prepared for the dreaded REGISTRATION DAY. I have a folder with everything I think I'll need. I'm registering three kids this year (two or three address forms in triplicate!). Mykela's going into Pre-K (no more babies - boo!) and there's a limit on how many can make it into the class. So I have to be there early - with extra forms and info.
On top of that, I'm heading the Harvest Fest again this year (I don't know what possessed me to do it. It seemed like a good idea in May). So there's this volunteer sign up sheet I have to do as well. If the average is one third of the people who sign up for this will actually do something, and I get all three sheets filled, then I'll have enough volunteers to help do this thing, right? Well, think about this, of the one third that actually show up to the first meeting, only one third of those actually do something, anything! So, if I only get one sheet filled out....
No, I can do this. Positive thinking, right?
I will go through the tables pick up all the right forms and have all the right information ready to make sure my kids get into school.
I can do this.
I will not have anything to rant about this afternoon.
Does anyone recognize a pep talk when they see one?
It may not happen again, but I actually made the President's list this semester.
I'm still a little shocked.
Keep in mind that this was an assignment. I had to read it out loud to a small group of my peers. They liked it. It took me a bit, but I like it too. It's short as stories go, but long for a blog. Grab a cup of coffee and enjoy.
Postcards
Sis, what I would give to have the company pay for you to be here. You were so right. Leave the tech stuff in the hotel room and go out wireless. Haven’t had this much fun since we were kids off the coast of North Carolina. “Wish you were here” takes on new meaning. Remind me to tell you about the guy at the bar. Kisses to all.
CC, thought you might like a picture from the backwoods. Sounds like you’re having a great time. Stick to the rules: no email, no letters and only call at night before bed. I’ll know if you don’t. Take lots of pic. That camera will fit in your pocket! Oh, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Hugs.
Sis, it is so beautiful here. I actually got out of meetings before dark today and strolled down to the beach. I picked a card with a picture so you could see. Now, just put a shell up to your ear, look at the picture and think of me. Kisses to all.
CC, loved the pic. Postcards are just perfect for that. Couldn’t do it justice with words. We’re doing fine. Wishing you all the luck with your big business deal. Don’t forget to take time to smell the seawater! Hugs.
Sis, Looks like I’ll be here a while longer. The deal isn’t going as easy as the boss said it would. Maybe I’m too much of a rookie to do this alone. Taking your advice though, going sailing this weekend. Miss you all so much. Kisses to all.
CC, WOW! Sailing! I’m so jealous. I decided to change the rules just a bit. Instead of me sending you conventional cards, you get pics of us missing you, jealous of you on the other side of the world. Yeah, I’m blowing a raspberry. But I may get a vacation next month. Then I’ll send you the exotics. Hugs.
Sis, you know I didn’t come here to meet someone, but I think a little nukie is deserved after Hell Week. So while sailing…let’s just say it’s XXX and I’ll detail you at when I get back. He’s picking me up for dinner tonight. Gotta fly! Kisses. P.S. loved the card. Stuck it in the dresser mirror.
CC, Whoever said “You can’t have too much fun,” never met you, my dear. Maybe you should rein it in a little. How’s the deal going? Call soon, OK? You’re slipping on the rules. Just want to make sure you’re doing all right. Hugs. PS. Yeah, had a bad dream. But maybe it won’t mean anything.
Sis, Next card, I promise will be a picture of Matt. He’s still around. I think he’s a good luck charm or maybe it’s just that he relaxes me. Negotiations started going smoother the Mon. after. Not perfected yet. But, I’m not sure I care. Starting to think about a vacation after the deal is done. You know, not leaving for a week or two. Kisses to all. PS. Picture Michael J. Fox taller and back in the day.
CC, I see you’re ignoring me. If I don’t get a call from you I’m jumping on a plane. Not just one bad dream. We miss you. Really. Hugs. PS. Thinking about breaking the rules for an email.
Sis, again, sorry for not calling. Won’t happen again. We’re almost done with the third largest deal in 10 yrs. for the company. And I did it alone. Well, almost. Conference calls, etc. This looks like the last business week. But the boss said I deserved two weeks. So I’m staying a little bit longer. On Friday, Matt will be with me when I call. Kisses to all. PS. Matt said we are “old fashioned.” What does that mean?
CC. Where’s the picture of Matt. Can’t wait to see what he looks like. Bet he really is a hottie. Congrats on your deal. Looks like my bad dreams were off this time. What a relief. Enjoy your vacation. But it’s not a honeymoon. You still have to stick by the rules and I’ll expect even more pictures since you’re out of some stuffy office! Hugs.
Sis, sorry we missed each other last night. I’ll try again, of course. Having an absolute blast. Going sailing again. There’s a little island Matt wants to show me. Local lore says ghosts protect the ancient/pirate treasure. No two stories are exactly alike. Sounds right up your alley. Don’t know how such a conservative can go for paranormal ideas like you do. Kisses.
CC. Why all of a sudden can’t we connect on the phone? Hope you get this quickly. You must call. Don’t forget us while you’re having such fun. Be careful. Hugs.
CC. Mailman must have lost your last card. Haven’t heard from you in days. Getting very worried. Calling your office today to see if anyone’s heard from you. Can’t find any info? Don’t worry, I’ll be on a plane in a minute. Miss you. Hugs.
Mom, Made it fine. Flight fine. Doing some asking around. CC. hasn’t checked out. She just hasn’t checked in. Will find. Will call. Leave your cell on and check your email often. Otherwise dropping you cards.
To: merry124@yahoo.com
From: carrie44@yahoo.com
Mom, calling tonight to give you all the details. Located this Matt guy. He says he lost her on the island and local officials won’t search it. I thought I was superstitious. Turns out he’s right. He and a couple locals and a few persistent tourists are the only ones willing to go to this island. No search planes or boats or anything. The island is not even big! 4 miles by 5 miles. Just takes time and those who are searching haven’t found clue one. I’m so mad and don’t know if I’m helping or getting in the way.
I can’t believe this is happening.
To: carrie44@yahoo.com
From: merry124@yahoo.com
Honey, keep the faith. Take your time. Call only when you find her. Otherwise don’t take the time. You need to sleep. Don’t forget to eat. CC’s only lost her way like that time at the barbecue when you girls were six. You found her then. Stay calm like you were then. You led us right to her. You’ll find her now.
To: merry124@yahoo.com
From: carrie44@yahoo.com
Nothing.
To: merry124@yahoo.com
From: carrie44@yahoo.com
Still nothing. What happened to the camera?
To: merry124@yahoo.com
From: carrie44@yahoo.com
Tiny island. Two weeks. Can’t find even a scrap of material. Nothing.
There's a linguistic theory that says once a person reaches a certain age, the brain has matured in such a way that learning language becomes problematical. (I know moms have heard of this. Everyone says that if you want your child to be fluent in other languages, you must expose them to it as often as possible from before birth to about 3 when the brain “stops growing.”)
I learned this last semester as fact in the pre-req class for any other Ling. class offered at UNT. I also questioned it. I ranted at home to Thomas and questioned the teacher and finally came to the conclusion that I'd research later (which I haven't yet begun) and simply regurgitate the facts on the test (which I passed with flying colors, of course). There were two cases cited of children who for one horrific reason or another did not get the stimulus of language from birth until about 12 and they were unable to create grammatically correct sentences.
This semester is ESL Acquisition. Rather than learning exactly how to teach ESL we're learning how to read the studies of the theories of how to teach ESL. All we know right now is that there is no perfect way, perfect theory, or perfect rationale. Which make sense since every teacher is different and every student is different.
One of our first readings is a study done by Flege, Yeni-Komshian, and Lui called Age Constraints on Second-Language Acquisition. (If you'd like to look it up.)
This is the perfect article to begin questioning the Critical Period Hypothesis. (At least for 2nd lang. acq.) It outlines the original theory and sets up tests and controls to determine if there is a Critical Period for L2 acq.
Essentially, it cannot confirm the existence. There are too many factors that influence the acquisition of a language. It is tough to determine everything from one study. And just like searching for the truth in the paranormal, everyone has an opinion on why the stats don't agree with the theory. (Here I go again intermingling everything I learned from totally unrelated class material!)
At the conclusion of this one study of 250 Korean immigrants to the US with different ages of arrival, different levels and years of American education, different levels of TV, movie, and radio influence, different self-estimations of how much they use English, it is possible that there is a maturational effect on the learning of syntax. It is not conclusive that the acquisition of a L2 is stunted by simply age and if it is, the Critical Period may not end between 12-15, but may end around 18. But it would only effect certain aspects of the second language.
The researchers also point out other directions future research may follow and since this particular study was written in 1999, I look forward to finding out what’s been learned since then.
This semester I have two Honors classes, a Linguistics class, and a Creative Writing class.
Last Monday's holiday and Wednesday's snow day deprived me of one class during the first week of school. But having attended three, I can tell you with confidence that Creative Writing will be my most time-consuming adventure.
The first week's assignments: write for 30 min to an hour for five days and do at least two exercises from the book. Not that this is hard. I just find it difficult to the find the time. Having kids and a home to take care of has enabled me to put writing on the backburner and I have just recently (after over a year) gotten better at posting blogs. I still (after I don't know how many years!) haven't written in my personal journal consistently. I am only slightly better at keeping the dream journal. So I'm fighting myself here. (Funny thing: all this is covered in the first chapter addressing fear as the primary reason for not writing despite the desperate urge.)
So, maybe this class will be good for me. I'm forced to write to get the grades. Therefore, I'm forced to find/make the time. I'm not doing so well right now. But this is only the first week. It has to get better.
The Weird Behavior class...
Despite the fact that the professor was in FL that night and we met the TA who gave us the syllabus, has proven interesting for me.
I don't know how the actual classroom interaction will be and suspect that it might not equal the fascinating discussions of utopia from last semester, but at least the topics are interesting enough. I've already completed the reading and done a little outside research.
Compare the guy who's book Flim Flam, we're reading an exerpt of:
http://www.randi.org/library/cottingley/index.html
With a website dedicated to the story:
http://www.cottingley.net/fairies.shtml
I wonder if I'm the only one who sees inconstancies.
Although the incidentals might better stand out if you get to read the preface to the book and the actual story from Flim Flam.
And I haven't read his online library entry of the case in its entirety. So maybe they are fixed. But judging from the book published in 1982, Randi is less interested in minute details of debunking and more interesting in the flamboyance of his insults.
Whatever sells, right?
I honestly can’t wait to get to this class this week.
It's the first day of spring semester. I'm too excited. I'm sitting in class 30 minutes early setting up my space with the laptop and notebook and just listening to the students.
Just for the record. I was not the first one here today.
And I have another class after this one with 15 minutes in between. It's just one floor down, but obviously I won't be the first one there either. I just hope that I get a choice spot next to an outlet. It's a three-hour creative writing class.
Right now ESL Aquisition. I'm hoping it's all the theoretical stuff we touched on last semester. That would be the only thing that would raise this class from "interesting" to "very interesting." I haven't found an acquisition theory I agree with yet.
Will update later. If not on this class, then, of course, the honors weird behavor class. Judging from the books, that will definitely be a very interesting class.
Just have to do it.
First semester at UNT.
3.75 GPA
Dean's List.
Yeah, I'm an academic snob!
complete obstruction of the airflow in the oral cavity - the blocked air is released suddenly like a small explosive
definition of oral stop
Linguists describe vowels by: tounge height, tongue advancement, lip rounding and degree of muscle tension
Have fun with those thoughts!
I'm not sure, but I think the reason that I'm not as excited about this semester is because there's a teacher that I've had before who scares the hell out of me.
I'm behind on buying books - I'm usually there on the first day I can.
I'm behind on scholarship applications - it's my own time table.
But this is the semester that I'll have the Associates. This is my last semester at community college. All my core courses will be finished and my first step completed. I should be terribly excited.
But I'm not. I'm terrified of this one class. Because of that I'll probably work harder in that one class and just glide through the others which will not make be feel better at all.
How do I get through this funk and actually be able to apply myself like I've done in the past?
The only thing I can come up with is one week at a time. But then some teacher(s) is(are) going to upset the whole thing by assigning a long-term project!
Oh well, chin up, right?
Why is it that after most of the semester dealing with an insane, twisted teacher who seems to spend hours dreaming of how to torture students, when she says “Good” it feels like a major accomplishment?
Since I started college for the second time I’ve paid more attention, actually done homework and even managed not to forget my online classes (a feat in itself!). I’m a little proud of myself.
However, it has not been easy. Let’s ignore the kids, the funky schedule, the day-to-day things that just have to be done, the fact that I’m a volunteer secretary and co-editor of the newsletter for a local moms club. Let’s focus on the school work for just a minute.
Here are teachers who are well-educated with Master’s even and who are paid to teach. Yet, they don’t check their own words before they grade us on our grammar or attention to detail.
Last semester I had an online teacher who made us write an essay during a timed online test along with the 50 questions we had to answer. He had major spelling and grammar issues all through his notes and some of them were so bad I had trouble making sense of the information he was trying to give. Yet he counted off on my essays because they lacked statistical detail. I got over it. He gave me an A.
The semester before that, I had an English teacher, who (just like every online teacher) grades us on self introductions on a discussion board. I’m thinking she just graded us on the fact that we did it, not what we said. I actually struggled through the class. She was a vicious grader and had the gumption to tell me (an English/Linguistics Major even noted in the intro) not to worry. She said, “This is the last major writing class you’ll have to take.” Yeah. I can’t avoid getting her next semester for World Lit II online. That promises to be interesting. She gave me a B. (I later found out that a B is pretty much the highest grade you can make in her class, so it’s a tiny bit comforting.)
This semester I have a teacher who also takes off for lack of detail without telling us which details she’s looking for. She gives a few assignments with strict guidelines about how to turn the things in, but not exactly what she’s looking for.
The thing is ... I can deal with strict. It doesn’t bother me one bit. But what I absolutely can’t stand is that on almost every chapter outline she’s given to us huge blocks of information are absent, or the information is not even correct. But we get counted off if we don’t fill in every single line of a chart even if it’s with N/A? What the hell kind of sense does that make?
Finally, I’ve finished an assignment early. I sent her the “draft” and asked if I was missing something. After I pushed “send”, I wondered if I was kissing up. I tried to knock the brown off my nose even after correcting her so many times. But after three days, she says, “It’s good.” Yeah, it’s good now. But will it be good when she grades it?
Lucky me, I’ll never have to take another science class again. But what’s anthropology, if not a science?
I would have talked about Thanksgiving, but aside from the absolutely amazing turkey my husband made, it was just like any other day.
I’m going to toot my own horn. I just have to get it out.
I can’t brag to some of my friends because they put it into this perspective: “I’m going to college and have been for a while. I didn’t take off to have kids. I’ve always known what I want to do. I may not have a 4.0, but I’m finishing and you’re just starting. You’ve got the easy stuff, Melissa.”
Others say: “Been there, done that.”
Still others: “Why are you telling me this? You’re thirty years old and going to school. I’m scrapping by. You don’t need to rub in the fact that you’re doing better than me.”
The truth is: I am a thirty-year-old, stay-at-home mother of three. I’m late going through the college thing. On the surface, I appear to have all the time in the world to study while others have to work and whatever else.
However, I’m also a room parent at the elementary school my boys attend. My daughter is two and still potty-training (had I been more consistent, she’d be done by now!)
I’m Secretary of our MOMS Club chapter for the second year. (This is an elected position, so somebody likes me!)
I’m also in charge of the monthly Newsletter for our MOMS Club chapter. (This is fun, right up my alley, and will look so good on the scholarship forms.)
I sew, read, write (the strangest stuff!), cook, clean (occasionally), take care of our meager finances, and all of the stuff that comes with having children, a husband and a home to take care of.
Here’s where the tooting comes in:
I have to explain where I’ve come from. I did not skip college. I gave it the weakest try after high school. The last semester did me in. I didn’t even withdraw, I just quit going and got three F’s. That brought my shining GPA down to 0.88. I just didn’t care. Most of it was that I had no idea what I was going to do. I didn’t have any goals or ambitions.
Thanks to my husband’s prodding, I discovered that I wanted to finish college.
With that embarrassing GPA, of course I didn’t get into either of the universities within biking distance. No, I have to go back to a community college, replace my grades, and transfer. After some thought, I decided to get all my core courses at NCTC and take an Associates to UNT, where I was first rejected. I’ll have that in May.
I did better than I ever expected. With just a little effort and time management, I have a 3.67 GPA. I haven’t been officially accepted into UNT because we’re waiting on a transcript SNAFU from MS, but I found out last week that I’ve been accepted into the Honors College. I can actually apply and reasonably expect to get scholarships rewarded for merit rather than rely on the government to pay my way. The Nation Honor Society sent me a postcard asking me to join. I’ll be going to UNT in the fall of 2006 and staying there until I get a Ph. D. (“In what?” you ask - Linguistics with a lot of Information Science and Anthropology thrown in for interest.)
It’s the strangest thing: I’ve become like all those kids in high school to whom grades were important. Now a B will piss me off. One of my teachers seems determined to sabotage her students so that they will not get a good grade. She and I are not happy with each other right now. This is not the person I used to be. This is, however, a person that I’m being to like (except for the anal compulsions).
My husband won a set of diamond earrings. These are not chips. They total ¾ of a carat. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m worthy of a gift like that.