Spanish Sunrise

First day of school for me yesterday. It was fraught with the usual UConn ridiculousness. Keys that weren't available, technology that didn't work, students that needed to overenroll and me too nice to tell them to bugger off. I am saddled with the two most annoying classrooms on campus. One is about 70 feet long and 20 feet wide at the most. For only 45 students. It's like I'm trying to project to the back row in church. Because that's where everyone sits, of course. I'm used to either a huge lecture hall or a smaller, more intimate group. The other classroom is shaped like an L and I'm at the top of the long rung of the L. There are 6 totally obstructed view seats. I think they should get a discount on their tuition. Like at a concert. It's hard to tell what the students will be like. They are generally pretty quiet the first day. I saw some smiles and head nods as I was talking, so that's comforting. I had one sleeper ALREADY, but in his defense it was about 400 degrees in both my classrooms. I myself just wanted to curl up on the desk in a pool of my own sweat and nod off. I think it'll be fine. I get the sense that there are a few students that will be enthusiastic talkers, and that will help. One of my sections includes the honors students (WHY they gave the honors cultural anthro students to an archaeologist, I'll never know), so they are usually pretty conscientious. Hopefully. My husband and one of my good friends who is visiting from Spain are guest lecturing on Thursday on fieldwork.

So, our friend is staying with us. I didn't realize the magnitude of how much I missed her until she showed up on our doorstep last night. She was the one friend I made at school that I could be totally myself with, call just to say hey, and sit with a cup of coffee with and talk about complete nonsense for hours on end. She is the reason my husband and I got together. We all met in grad school and my initial reaction to him was "What a gigantic jackass." He was one of two men in our department, one of which I erroneously thought was gay and the other was my husband-straight out of the military, very good-looking and a giant flirt. Traci got to know him before I did and convinced me he was a good guy. So, I gave him a chance. And here we are.

She's not a big kid fan, but was anxious to meet Animal, who was completely silly with her all morning. She brought her the coolest piggy bank from Seville, the kind that is ceramic with no bottom opening. Once it's full, you have to break it to get the money out. It was on the table this morning and Animal couldn't stop pointing and talking at it. She called it a dog. Close, I guess. I'm looking forward to the rest of our visit with her. Did I mention I missed her? She's a close second to my RI friends, who I miss on an hourly basis.

So, now I'm sitting in Panera's using WiFi, feeling like a big spacone, trying to give her some space to get going after a long trip last night. She just called and she's on her way out the door to run some errands. She couldn't lock the top lock on our inside door so she locked the bottom, which I don't have a key to. Hopefully I can break into the front door. Ha.

School's Out for the Summer

Ah, the SNL special is on. SNL in the 90s. When it was funny and relevant and smart. Now it's just an embarrassment.

School is over for the semester. It was harder than I ever imagined. I learn something new every semester. My lesson for this semester: I SUCK. Maybe if Millie was a better sleeper, things would have been different. Maybe if I could have had more than 45 minutes to think. To read an article. To correct exams. To, God forbid, think about my dissertation. But, for the last three months, she woke up more times than I can count between the time she goes to "bed" and the time we relented and my husband took her to bed with him so I could get some work done. Of course, by then, it's late and I'm exhausted. If I don't get the job I am still hoping hoping hoping for and I'm still in school full time in the fall, I am holding on to hope that she'll be better by then. At this rate, I should get my dissertation by the time I'm 50. Not that there is anything wrong with getting your dissertation at 50. It's just wrong when you started at 31.

Maybe now I'll have time to breathe. To blog. To call my friends. If they still love me. I wouldn't blame them if they say, "And I should know you from?"