Usually, when my allergy shot nurse opens my folder, I see a picture she took of me years ago in the very front, before pages and pages of records. Today, I saw myself–but it was a different picture–the picture UCD used in celebrating my teaching award here.

This was both flattering and ironic. A few weeks ago, one of my colleagues mentioned that she wasn’t surprised by my teaching award because she heard so many good things about me. It seems she had been to the UCD medical center. When she mentioned where she worked, people asked if she knew me and apparently said nice things about me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it had nothing to do with my teaching–it’s just that I’m at the medical center an inordinate amount (I’ve had four visits for treatments/tests just this week) and that I’m a lovely patient.

Now, though, they may be able to mention my teaching. 🙂

***

This week started out rocky–I had a flare up of my stomach problems again. I threw up on Sunday and then found myself nauseated for several days after, including the day I got the teaching award. Luckily, I managed not to get sick all over the Chancellor and the Provost.

The ceremony was actually really nice. Several people were being honored, both in the Senate and the Federation. Margie Fergusen, who was my prof in grad school, and who is the current President of the MLA, won an award for teaching graduate students. She mentioned having so many gainfully employed students, which gave me the perfect opening to start my talk. I thanked those who taught me, my students, my friends and family, my union, the Federation, my department, etc. I did an ad for my department, got a couple of little giggles with asides, and told them about my current stand-up class.

Then I told them what I tell my students on our last day of class:

“You’re job, while you’re here, is to think. No matter how stressed out you are, remember how lucky you are. Most people in the world will never get the chance to be where we are.

“Most people would give anything to be where we are.

“I love this all so much that I just moved from where you are to the other side of the desk. Let’s think about what I do for a living.

“I think about stuff. I come into class and tell you what I think. I make you write papers about what you think. Then I tell you what I think about that.

“That’s amazing. I’m incredibly lucky. We all are.”

***

In other news this week, I got to have short Twitter exchanges with two of my heroes: Dan Savage and Harry Shearer. Dan Savage was interviewed by another one of my former profs, Beth Freeman, at the Mondavi Center. (I do have to say, though, that I’m disappointed that he got downgraded to an interview due to a protest.)

HuffPo contacted Denise and I about recording a question for Harry Shearer. Du didn’t have time to do it, but after about 40 minutes of technical difficulties, I got a question out and recorded for the ages. I assumed that lots of people had been invited–that I would be part of a big Q&A. Instead, Harry was interviewed and my question was the only “fan” one. His answer was insightful, and I’m shallow enough to have let out a little squeal when he called me “Dr. Karma.”

You can see me not knowing where to look and positioned awkwardly in my office at minute 24 in this video.

***

This weekend, I’m going to try to catch up on work, to have some wine, and to celebrate over two decades of motherhood with my special little guy.

It’s been a pretty good week.

Don’t assume I’m not into sci-fi or that I’m one of those people who seems proud to announce that they’ve never seen one of the most groundbreaking series in movie history.
I can recite the three original films. I can recite the pieces of commercials that ended up on my VHS recordings of those films too.
There’s a two foot tall R2D2 living in my room–he’s rocking my David Bowie Goblin King wig.
My favorite childhood T-shirt, with an iron-on of Princess Leia, has been lovingly sewed into a pillow.
The reason I don’t give a damn about the new movie trailer is because WE’RE ALL GOING TO SEE THAT MOVIE ANYWAY.
Some parts of the trailer are cool; some suck–it doesn’t matter at all.
Oh, a woman takes a light saber? Well, the woman with the light saber in the last film was the only Jedi to go down without a fight.
Oh, there’s a black storm trooper and that’s impossible? He could be dressing up like that to rescue a princess–it’s happened before.
Oh, an ancient Harrison Ford wanders in and you wonder if Shia Labeouf is right behind him?
It doesn’t matter–we’re all going to see this movie.
Most of us are suffering PTSD from the prequels, but we’re still going to see this movie.
Let’s be honest. That trailer could have been filled with nothing but Ewoks and Jar Jar.
It could have announced that this new film was going to be called The Star Wars Christmas Special Returns: Now with more Itchy and Bea Arthur!
WE’RE ALL GOING TO SEE THAT MOVE ANYWAY!

There’s absolutely no reason to read this unless we’re close.

As I write this, I’m lying on my couch after another night of vomiting.

As many of you know, I’ve had many episodes like this over the last several months. We’re ruled out food poisoning, an infection, etc. We’ve ultrasounded where my gall-bladder used to be to see if a stone got left behind. We’ve done a test to see if I have a blockage in my system. No and no.

The vomiting is happening in a certain context, however. I have bile in my stomach now that the gall-bladder is gone. Due to a hernia at the top of my stomach that prevents the stomach from ever closing all the way, bile and acid frequently reflux. My esophagus spasms (it’s weird until I remember that all of my muscles are prone to spasming). Ever since my gall-bladder surgery two years ago, I’ve woken up with digestive issues. (This is normal for a little while, but not for two years.) I have to take at least half an immodium a day to go to work.

This is all gross, which is why most of you don’t know about it.

My gastro-interologist has narrowed things down a bit. So here are the current theories–something called abdominal migraine (of course I would get that). Vomiting due to the bile reflux (though it should be more frequent in that case) or from a worn system from the stress it’s under (again, it should be happening more).

The gastro-doc is leaning toward the first problem; however, that’s something for my neurologist to deal with, and she’s incommunicado cause she’s on maternity leave.

We’re also going to take a picture of my brain. Just cause.

I’m gonna build up a little more strength this morning and then demand some attention from neurology.

In addition to the usual blogs and magazines, I’ve been able to finish a few books so far this year.

Dear Committee Members by Julie Schumacher–this was for book group. It’s a quick and funny read, especially if you’re into academy satire. It’s an epistolary novel through one point of view. As an English professor writes his letters of rec, etc., we learn about him, his department, and the future of academia. My favorite parts are when he describes what his creative writing students are working on–all but one seems to be focused on supernatural drivel. However, the passage I’ll quote is from a letter of rec that I want to steal for some of my own: “Mr. Lesczynski attended class faithfully, arriving on time, and rarely succumbed to the undergraduate impulse to check his cell phone for messages or relentlessly zip and unzip his backpack in the final minutes of class.”

There Once Lived a Mother Who Loved Her Children, Until They Moved Back In–Ludmilla Petrushevskaya. The novellas in this collection were written a long time ago, but could not be published because they depicted unhappy people struggling to get by behind the iron curtain. Interesting stuff, but I can’t say I found them very engaging. I was also irritated by the introduction–the scholar gives away the endings of what you’re about to read, but doesn’t see fit to contextualize some of the important references (like how the support rationing worked) Westerners will likely not understand.

The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle–one of Alexander’s favorite artists has done a great cover of the song (by America) from this movie. He asked if we had it–we did once upon a time, but on VHS. And I’d never owned or read the book. I suggested he get a copy from the library. To our surprise, Sac State had a signed one! I now get to show him one of my favorite childhood films (when we get the Netflix disc)–nothing is going to surprise him though (except maybe who voices the King), since the film is remarkably faithful.

Being Mortal by Atul Gawande–I’ve been reading and teaching Gawande for years. One of my favorite articles by him is “Letting Go” from The New Yorker, so I was thrilled when his latest book was an expansion of it. Being Mortal is an exploration of how we handle death in America (not well)–we spend most healthcare dollars on the last months of life; we don’t talk to our families about the end (the most heartbreaking section is about Gawande’s own father dying–they’re both physicians, but they had trouble having the necessary end of life conversations); physicians aren’t trained to guide us through these moments/talks–and insurance companies don’t want them spending the time to; etc. Great read–read it, write the living will (as I need to), and talk to your family.

The Book of Life by Deborah Harkness–The third in the All Soul’s Trilogy. Satisfying. Perfect for getting to Vancouver and curling up in a hotel room bed.

The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion–I read most of this on the plane back from Vancouver. A friend of a friend recommended it as a light comic read. It’s about a man on the spectrum in Australia who begins a project to find a wife–questionnaire and all. Things, of course, go awry. I’m tempted to read the sequel, and I’ll definitely go to see the movie they’re making of it.

The gods have not heard my pleas for an easier year; in fact, they’ve taken away a big part of my joy and refuge, but at least there are good books.

(Totally published this at first without mentioning another important book–I’ve had to go in to edit my own book in! Atwood’s Apocalypses–ask your library to buy it now!)

I’ve seen almost every episode of The Colbert Report, save a month’s worth in 2006, when I was in London and my cable at home wasn’t hooked up. (I’ve also seen just about every Daily Show, beginning way back before Jon took over.) I haven’t always seen the episodes close to the day they aired (my DVR can hold a lot), and I’m often working while I have it on, turning The Report into something more akin to a radio show, but I never wanted to go without it.
Alexander and I watched the first episode together. He, being young, declared that he didn’t like it–Stephen was too mean. I pointed out that Stephen was doing a satire–and that his character was sort of a cross between Bill O’Reilly and Stone Phillips (his first guest). Alex was won over then too.
Today, I watched my last episode (which happened to be the penultimate episode). Quite frankly, I’d been putting it off because I didn’t want the show to end.
The Colbert Report provided us with many joys–great writing, a host able to use his improv training to great effect in interviews, some amazing recurring segments (The Word, Formidable Opponent, etc.), and a front row view to the rise of The Colbert Nation, resulting in several people getting the Colbert bump and in Colbert’s name and fame touching everything from The National Gallery to the International Space Station.
However, the best thing it has provided for me is a wonderful tool for teaching satire, as I’m wont to do. The show isn’t the only satire on TV, but it’s consistently one of the best. It was a gamble for Stephen to take this character from TDS & give him a full half-hour. After all, while there are moments of satire on TDS, Jon plays a straight man to his correspondents. In fact, when I want to illustrate satire on TDS, I often go back to an old report of Stephen’s–“Fruit Juice.”
Part of the risk has been born out–people often don’t get straight satire, which is why more Republicans watch The Report than TDS, even though Stephen’s character mocks them so derisively. I have had students report that their Republican parents have given them Colbert’s books — to help them return to their conservative roots.
I could go on and on about this amazing television extravaganza, but let me just simply say that I’ll miss him. I know that the actor Stephen Colbert will be back on TV in the Fall, but if there have been over 1400 episodes, that means I’ve spent over 700 hours with his pundit character. One of my longest relationships is at an end (except for when I pull up those videos for future satire students).

I’m also gonna miss that ass.

Full days in Vancouver: 1
Pots of good tea: 3
Salmon servings: 1
Nando’s visits: 1
Friends caught up with: 2
Books read: 2*
Eardrums totally messed up from the plane: 1
Books acquired at MLA exhibit: 11
Total dollars paid for the above books: 25

At the Convention Center

*The books were Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal (amazing) and the third in the All Soul’s Trilogy (good fantasy fun).

I haven’t blogged much this year. This is partly because it’s been a crazy (busy) year, but it’s also partly because it’s been a pretty awful year in many ways. Some lowlights: replacing two cars (one replacement is a lemon that is in the shop as I write this); several trips to the ER; most of the year in physical therapy; between 2-7 medical appointments each and every week (expensive + time consuming!); Grandma dying; Vanessa moving away; taking in Mindy (not because Mindy is awful, but just because having to deal with another person in our too small place and having her disabled & thus needing to move in is awful); several medical procedures.
All of this happened in a year in which I taught 18 courses, served on several committees, edited the Atwood journal, edited Prized Writing, ran the upper division comp exam, edited a collection on Atwood for Cambridge, and hit quite a few conferences.
In short, I’m tired and fairly cranky from being tired and being in pain.
I’m really hoping that 2015 is a lot better. As a symbol of starting that, let’s talk about the good things that happened this year:
My classes were generally good. Some were very good. An independent study I did with an honors student was awesome. Teaching was a wonderful break from everything else.
I have become one of the favorite people of Artemis, the cutest baby in Davis, who gets to come over to my house at least once a week.
My boyfriend is awesome and our time together is consistently enjoyable, as we provide each other a refuge from the rest of the world.
My friends are amazing. They are supportive, generous, and thoughtful. I’m especially grateful to have been able to travel with Melissa and with Vanessa, to see Vanessa and Tiffany this holiday. Plus, friendship usually involves good wine.
I’ve been able to see some great plays and other live events, most notably in Ashland and here at Mondavi, where I caught Willie Nelson and Mike Birbiglia.
I’ve read some great books. Some I’ve mentioned here earlier in the year. A few more favorites: The Goldfinch–beautifully written. We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves–my favorite book of the year–set in Davis, thoughtful, compelling, gorgeous. The Kingkiller Chronicles–picked this up on a lark–so good, so well paced–could not put them down. The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared–dry Scandinavian wit resulting in a very fun read. The Thinking Woman’s Guide to Real Magic–this is sort of a cross between Outlander and The All Soul’s Trilogy.

Here’s to more of the good stuff. And now, just because, comet Lovejoy:

Today is a Simpsons anniversary. On December 17th, 1989, the first full length episode, a Christmas special, appeared.
Of course, the characters premiered in 1987 on The Tracey Ullman Show. What most people don’t know, however, is that “Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire” was not meant to be the first episode. The season was supposed to start at the beginning of Fall, with “Some Enchanted Evening.” However, the creators/producers were unhappy with the animation that came back from the finishers–it apparently looked too much like The Flintstones–walls shaking when doors were closed, etc. David Silverman helped clean things up and quality was favored over starting on time, thankfully.
A quick memory:
As a rabid Simpsons fan before the show even started, I was very much looking forward to the Christmas special. We set the family VCR. Mom watched the show with me and found the message of family love inspiring. I found that the show solidified my love for my yellow dysfunctional family.
My mom took the tape over to our extended family during the Christmas holiday. My grandmother denounced the show since Bart talked back and never watched it again. My mother turned to one of her sisters at the end of the episode, saying something along the lines of, “See, this just goes to show that you can have a great Christmas without having any money.”
It was patronizing and insulting, and I was mortified, but it wasn’t The Simpsons’s fault.