Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Summer classes suck.
I need one more paragraph for my last paper in Fear, Risk & Rhetorical Criticism. Then I have to write that frigging cover letter AND create a handout defining the method I created and how to use it. I am over it. Tomorrow I have to go to school to turn this paper in and present my method to the class. Then I have to go to the laundromat, pack, and get on a plane. I am tired, this is ridiculous, and I am over it.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
How about the castanets?
Ant just brought me a form to sign for 6th grade band.
"My first choice is trumpet, my second choice is trombone."
"How about the recorder?" I asked. Good grief! I have to buy a trumpet? I looked at the form and asked him why he wanted trumpet. It's not much of a mystery, really. The options are flute, clarinet, trumpet, and trombone. The last man I saw playing a flute was Ron Burgundy. Even the clarinet is kind of girly.
"Well, that's what Daddy said..."
Am I insane or overreacting if I am seriously annoyed that this was decided without me? I am not the only one who brings in money, but I am the one who handles the finances. Great! I asked Ant what was wrong with the choir.
"I don't like to sing."
"Yeah, but your voice is free."
Arg arg arg. Honestly, I don't give a shit if he plays the tuba, but I am royally annoyed that I was left out of this conversation.
I am having a "Goddammit, Chris" kind of day. I am also having a "What the hell am I doing with this paper" kind of day. I don't even know what the hell I am talking about, but I am very convincing in my argument.
What's due tomorrow is a rough draft and I would feel better about what I'm writing if it made any sense to me. My teacher says all my papers start off a mess (my words, not hers) and come together by page 3. What I have here instead is a really cohesive effort spent on pages 1 and 2. And I mean cohesive like organization, not cohesive like the argument fits together. Not yet, anyway. I don't even know if this will fly because there isn't much method involved. YET! Just not yet.
I just talked to Chris briefly about the instrument thing- he said it was a very brief conversation. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. This is more of Ant telling us what the deal is. He confirms this information with himself. It's just like when the boys came back from the river and I drove Bubba home. Ant came with me and told me all about how Daddy said he's spending all next weekend at Bubba's while I'm gone. Later on I overhear Chris talking to Elaine about her coming up here and I ask wait, why did you say Bubba's?
"I didn't tell him that," Chris says.
Either I automatically question everything that comes out of Ant's mouth and he gets mad at me or I believe him and find out that he's just dictating everything again.
"Why do you keep trying to tell everybody what's going on?" I asked Ant.
"It makes me feel older," he said.
"My first choice is trumpet, my second choice is trombone."
"How about the recorder?" I asked. Good grief! I have to buy a trumpet? I looked at the form and asked him why he wanted trumpet. It's not much of a mystery, really. The options are flute, clarinet, trumpet, and trombone. The last man I saw playing a flute was Ron Burgundy. Even the clarinet is kind of girly.
"Well, that's what Daddy said..."
Am I insane or overreacting if I am seriously annoyed that this was decided without me? I am not the only one who brings in money, but I am the one who handles the finances. Great! I asked Ant what was wrong with the choir.
"I don't like to sing."
"Yeah, but your voice is free."
Arg arg arg. Honestly, I don't give a shit if he plays the tuba, but I am royally annoyed that I was left out of this conversation.
I am having a "Goddammit, Chris" kind of day. I am also having a "What the hell am I doing with this paper" kind of day. I don't even know what the hell I am talking about, but I am very convincing in my argument.
What's due tomorrow is a rough draft and I would feel better about what I'm writing if it made any sense to me. My teacher says all my papers start off a mess (my words, not hers) and come together by page 3. What I have here instead is a really cohesive effort spent on pages 1 and 2. And I mean cohesive like organization, not cohesive like the argument fits together. Not yet, anyway. I don't even know if this will fly because there isn't much method involved. YET! Just not yet.
I just talked to Chris briefly about the instrument thing- he said it was a very brief conversation. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. This is more of Ant telling us what the deal is. He confirms this information with himself. It's just like when the boys came back from the river and I drove Bubba home. Ant came with me and told me all about how Daddy said he's spending all next weekend at Bubba's while I'm gone. Later on I overhear Chris talking to Elaine about her coming up here and I ask wait, why did you say Bubba's?
"I didn't tell him that," Chris says.
Either I automatically question everything that comes out of Ant's mouth and he gets mad at me or I believe him and find out that he's just dictating everything again.
"Why do you keep trying to tell everybody what's going on?" I asked Ant.
"It makes me feel older," he said.
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