wake me when september ends

School started and things went ka-plooey. And by that I mean, all my "free time" recently has been dedicated to my classes. I'm spending lots of hours researching for my Latin American culture class, which I'm enjoying. But it is also taking up my entire life right now.

Jason and I are shopping for a dining table, but we're frustrated because we can't find anything we like. It's all too showy, or not big enough, or too big, or just plain ugly. And this is a big investment by two people who don't have a lot of cash, so we don't want to just settle.

And Indiana now has her own dog bed (pictures to follow soon). We were afraid to get her another one after she ruined two previous ones by peeing on them. But that was when she was a puppy. She's 2 now, older and wiser, and seems to be enjoying this bed quite a lot. And, it is still pee-free.

Mountains beyond Mountains

Our freshman book this year is Mountains beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder, the incredible story of Dr. Paul Farmer, the mastermind behind Partners in Health. If you haven't read it and/or haven't heard of Farmer, check it out. It is at once inspiring (yes, we can change the world!) and awe-inspiring (he's amazing!). In our discussion yesterday, my students and I talked about that tension between inspiration and immobilization (I can't be like him, He's special, We can't all do what he does). But it seems like they have been thinking about how to combine their passions and skills, which is what Farmer does, to make a difference in the world. It has been a great way to start off the semester...

advising

It's my first semester as a freshman advisor, and it is exhausting work. I'm enjoying it, but I also have a new-found respect for advising as one of the many things we "do" in academia. If done well, it is such an important job. And because it is so important, I am working hard at it. I don't believe in hand-holding, but I do want to be active in their decisions. It brings out the mothering instinct in me, I'm afraid. I'll have to keep a check on that.

Saturday night my advisees come to our house for dinner, a nice Sewanee tradition. We were thinking of making Spanish food (seems fitting), but I'm not so certain that nervous 18-year-old girls will eat gazpacho.

that scene...

You know that scene from Psycho, the one that everyone knows even if you've never seen the movie? The shower scene?

I saw it again today, in a film seminar I'm taking, and it freaked me out, even though I knew what was going to happen. That scene is pure genius. The exaggerated noises punctuated by deafening silence...the loud pull of the shower curtain, the unnecessarily noisy opening of the soap, the water pouring out of the showerhead (with a brilliant close-up of that shower head)... Even more than that music (eee, eeee, eeee, eeee), the sounds are so effective for me.

9th birthday

So, on my 9th birthday I received my first journal, a beautiful book with a silky blue cover and Chinese design, its own bookmark ribbon, and wonderfuly crinkly pages. I still have it and read it from time to time just to remind myself what it was like to be 9. My niece Kelsi (left) got Bratz dolls, which I detest. Huge heads, huge lips, teeny tiny bodies, and clothes no nine-year-old should want to wear. She even got a Bratz-style hat, as you can see in this photo. In silent protest, I got her clothes and a make-your-own memory box kit. Did she like them? Sure. Did she like the Bratz stuff better? Unfortunately.