A Texan in a Connecticut Yankee's court

This morning we had headed out with the idea that we were going northeast, spending the day at Cape Cod. However, we had to stop first to pick up a gift for our dog-sitter, and at the store, the sales lady told us that the forecast for snow had changed from flurries to 3-4 inches. That was all we needed to hear to decide that the Cape, or anything outdoors, would not be such a great idea.

Instead, we headed south and west to Connecticut. We thought we might go to the aquarium in Mystic. However, we stopped at the state visitor's center to get a map, and Doug saw something that intrigued him -- Mark Twain's home and museum in Hartford. The girl at the visitor's station told us that Hartford wasn't too far and encouraged us to go, so we did. Twain and his family lived in this house for 17 years and this is where he wrote Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer and of course, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Both of us adore Mark Twain, although Doug is more into him and knows more about him. We weren't allowed to take photos inside, but the outside is below.



After, we headed back to Rhode Island, stopping at the Foxwood Casino. This tribal casino would rival anything on the strip in Vegas, but set in the middle of the woods with no other buildings around. Inside was a smorgasbord for the senses. We looked around for a bit but opted not to stay. Given that it was Saturday night, it was just too crowded and noisy. Doug is planning to take the hour drive back there and play some poker Thursday night before heading home.

Tomorrow afternoon I will be flying back to Austin. We will probably do something in the morning, but we need to see how much snow we get during the night.

Newport news

Doug only had to work until lunch today. I kicked around a couple of towns this morning -- Pawtuxet and East Greenwich. The wind was starting to pick up and since the weather report forecasted winds from 30-40 mph today, I decided that we needed some winter gear and went to Wal-Mart to buy hats, scarves and gloves for us. I was glad I got some because we really needed it. Doug said I looked like a terrorist with my hat and scarf.



I picked up Doug from work and we decided to spend the afternoon at Newport. One of the things we did was the Cliff Walk. National Geographic Traveler named this 3.5 mile walk one of the "Fifty Places of a Lifetime." You walk along a cliff, one side is the ocean crashing 50 feet below. The other side is palatial mansions, owned at one time by the Vanderbilts and Astors. A few photos of the walk are below.









We spent the rest of the afternoon/evening exploring Newport and looking at great views of the ocean.



We're not sure yet what we'll do tomorrow. Depending on the weather (it might snow a little), we might head up to Mass. and/or Boston, or we might go to Conn. to an aquarium.

Happy birthday to me

Doug is in Rhode Island for work for the next two weeks, so I decided to join him for my birthday. I arrived last night. Tonight we went to the Federal Hill, the Italian area of Providence.



While Doug was working, I went exploring today. I ended up spending some time in the Village of Wickford, a cute little shopping area on the bay.

Leaving on a jet plane

It’s funny what you notice at the airport. I’ve always thought they were a great place for people watching. Sometimes I start making up stories about fellow travelers. Like the guy next to me, reading a Japanese-language newspaper and carrying a big rice cooker. Is he on the way to the U.S. to visit his son?

I look around to kill time as I am waiting on my layover in the Cleveland airport. This is my first, and presumably my last, visit to Cleveland. I can’t imagine there much here to interest me in actually taking a vacation here.

One thing I notice as I’m looking around is how everyone is dressed in heavy sweaters, coats and multiple layers. Of course, I’m the odd one out. I’m in short sleeves and my heavy coat is in the suitcase. After all, it was in the 70s when I left Austin. Plus I am flying in a 57-seat regional jet – space in overhead bins is a commodity fought over as much as crude oil.

People walk around the airport with their Bluetooth earpiece in their ear, eventhough they aren’t actually on the phone. I go into the bar to have a drink. I tend to drink when I’m flying, although I’m not exactly sure why. I don’t hate flying, but I don’t particularly care for it. Maybe it’s because I didn’t fly until I was 23 and my first trips consisted of flying a 25-seater twin prop. Luckily the flights were always fairly short, from Fayetteville to Dallas to catch a real plane, but still, by the time I walked off those planes, I felt like I had shoved into a dryer on the low tumble cycle. Still, it was better than the 6-seater I would occasionally fly with Wal-Mart, if my trips had at least four others going with me. One of those trips the weather was so bad that we literally kissed the ground when we landed.

There is a lady with two colleagues at the next table in the bar. She looks as though she is either a Baptist Sunday School teacher or that she sells Mary Kay. At the very least, she is an aging cheerleader, with a big diamond wedding ring. I am surprised at the amount of make-up she wears. That’s nothing you really see up north. In the south, it’s common to not go to the grocery store without first having your nails done. Austin, however, is a bit different – when a substantial portion of the female population doesn’t bother to shave their legs or armpits, make-up is the last of one’s worries.

I can’t eavesdrop on the woman’s conversation. My sinus and allergy issues went to my ears during the first leg of my flight and I can’t hear out of my right ear – it feels like it is stuffed with cotton. I just have to make up the dialog for this woman’s conversation. It’s not all that interesting.

Unfortunately the flight did nothing to diminish my sense of smell. A lady walks in and sits at the table behind me. I don’t see her, and can’t describe her, but I can definitely SMELL her. She reeks of perfume. She’s five feet away and her perfume overwhelms me. It’s expensive perfume, and maybe I would like it if it didn’t attack my olfactory senses. At this point, I decide it’s time to pay my bar tab and walk to my gate.

When I get to my gate, I have a stark realization – there is not a concourse that you walk through to get to the plane. You actually walk outside, down the tarmac and up those rolling stairs to board. I hate that. It reminds me of those dreaded twin props. Plus, I don’t have my jacket and it’s cold outside. I will have to order another drink from the flight attendant once I get on board.

The flight boards, we take off, and it’s time to get the personal electronics out. I forgot to turn off my portable DVD player, so the battery ran low during the layover – no Law & Order to amuse me. Instead, I take out my iPod and use my noise-canceling headsets to listen to the music I adored as a teen. I look out the window, into the darkness, staring at the lights below. It’s very different from flying out of Texas, especially heading west. There are tons of lights below – every town looks like a big city. It’s a fairly clear night, but we do pass through some clouds. At night they look like shadows dancing against the ground. I notice the blinking lights on the wing of the plane. Suddenly, I remember a Twilight Zone episode where a plane passenger sees a face against his window. Although I can’t remember any of the other episodes of the Twilight Zone, this snippet comes back to me as clearly as if the incident happened to me. It always does whenever I’m flying at night – I’ve had the remembrance before. My heart beats faster and I take drink. I try to think of something other than Rod Serling.

The plane starts its decent into Providence. I realize that now both my ears are clogged, but figure my hearing will be okay by the morning. I am looking forward to this trip, if for no other reason that seeing a new part of the country.

Event horizon

Sorry the posts have been few and far between lately. I was taking a weekend class where we covered an entire semester in three weeks. Let's just say it was hectic. We also took a case study approach, analyzing case studies from Harvard Business School and applying our learnings and other readings. We basically taught ourselves with the prof there to guide us. As you can imagine, it was very intense.

I took my final tonight (online) and have my grades. I made an A, which means I kept my 4.0. In fact, that's what I'm graduating with.

Yup, that was my last class. My course work is done.

Now, I get to spend the rest of the semester on my thesis. I'm not sure if I will make the March deadline for a May graduation, but if not, it will be August. Either way, I will be done with it by the end of this semester.

The end is in sight. My event horizon.

BTW, on Wednesday I am heading to Rhode Island for a few days. Doug is there for two weeks on business and it made more sense for me to go up there for a few days now that this class is over than for him to come home. I've never spent much time in New England so I am looking forward to it. Any suggestions on places to see or things to do are welcomed.

Doug went ahead and gave me my birthday present -- a camera to replace the one left at Texas Stadium. Like my other one, it's a Canon PowerShot, this time a 5 megapixel. If I get the software and stuff figured out, I will post photos while I'm up there. At the very least, I will do the camera phone thing.

Hawaiian name

I'll have to remember this the next time we go to Hawaii:

Your Hawaiian Name is:

Nani Iolana

What's your Hawaiian Name?

Small world

About 40 years ago Doug's mother became friends with a fellow teacher in Belton, MO. His mother left that district to teach in Chillicothe, while her friend, Kay, eventually moved to Lubbock, TX. They still stay in contact.

The other day Barbara forwarded an email from me to Kay. It was about the son-in-law (Blake) of a friend of mine (Gary) who was in a terrible accident. Come to find out that Kay knew Blake when he taught at her school, and knows Misty (Gary's daughter & Blake's wife) as well. According to Kay, there has been such outpouring of warmth from the entire Lubbock community.

It's just amazing how small this world really is.

Say a little prayer

I got word from my friend Gary today. His son-in-law was in a skiing accident last Friday and has been in a coma ever since. Blake is married to Gary's oldest daughter, Misty, and they have a 3 year-old son and Misty is expecting a little girl. Blake is an assistant principal at Lubbock High School. This article doesn't say much; Gary said that two of Blake's vertebrae are crushed. If you could, please say a prayer for Blake and Misty.

It is any wonder why I live in Austin?

In just a few weeks it will be 6 years since we moved to Austin. Since going off to college, the only town I've lived in longer was Fayetteville, which really doesn't count because 4 of those 7 years were spent in college.

Now it makes sense why I've stayed in Austin so long. According to this quiz, Austin is the American city that best suits me. Which city best suits you?



>

American Cities That Best Fit You:

60% Austin

55% Atlanta

55% Honolulu

55% Miami

55% Washington, DC

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

Dog catcher

I'm sitting at the kitchen table all afternoon, working on school work with my laptop. Every so often Allegra comes to check on me. She nudges me for a pat on the head or brings me her bone to throw. I happily comply. I like working in this spot because I can look out the window. Occasionally I catch one of the dogs rolling in the grass, the sun on their belly. It makes me smile.

Afternoon turns to dusk and I watch the light fade from the sky. I finally decide to take a break. I turn around and walk five feet, into the darkened living room. I see an indistinguishable mass on the couch and I turn on the light. It's Allegra, looking like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar. She knows she's not supposed to be on the couch and she's waiting to see what wrath I will hurl her way. I'm too taken aback from her boldness to do much more than have her stay until I take her photo and send it to her daddy. "Just you wait until your father gets home, young lady!" I want to say. After all, I was less than 10 feet away with my back turned when she decided the no furniture rule didn't apply to her. She must have known she would get caught, but somehow she didn't care. Maybe she was trying to tell me that I was too wrapped up in my work to notice what she was doing. Now she's been noticed, now she's been caught and now she slinks off the couch and into the hall, where she'll wait for Doug to come home.

Typically students

I'm not long enough in my teaching career to be jaded, but several weeks into my second semester teaching at Texas State University-San Marcos, I've realized that there truly are typical students. I don't mean that all the students are the same, but that most students can fit into one of several categories.

The Inquisitor -- These are the students that ask the questions that you don't want to hear, as they have nothing to do with the actual lecture. Stuff like, "are we having a quiz today?". They also are the ones who beg for you to let the class out early or to give attendance points that day. Two things about them -- one, they are always in class and are usually prepared for the pop quiz, so what does it matter, and two, as a teacher you don't let the students out early so why does the Inquisitor think you'll start? Inquistors can be males or females and generally do well in class. But they do try to see how they can work the angles.

The Eager Beaver -- I have to admit, I have a tendency to fall into this category myself. These are students too eager to participate in class and willing to answer the teacher's questions. As a teacher, you have to be careful that the eager beaver doesn't hog all the class time and/or doesn't hijack the class to take it in the direction he/she wants. As a student, I've learned to scale back on this a bit.

Still Waters Run Deep -- These are students who truly take in everything you say, but hardly contribute to class. Yet, if they feel you are approachable, they will talk with you outside the class or send emails, asking a lot of questions on the course topic. Mainly these students suffer a bit of communication apprehension about speaking up in class. In many ways I find these students the most rewarding, as they show insight and you know that not only are you reaching them, they are thinking about the class after they walk out of the lecture hall.

Zombies -- The vast majority of students in larger-sized classes. They come, maybe they take notes, maybe they don't, maybe they nod their head if you are lucky, but they don't answer or ask questions. Sometimes you really wonder if you are reaching them. They go under the idea that if they don't make waves, they won't be noticed. Maybe this is true, as many times in larger classes you won't learn their names.

World Dominators -- Eager beavers with more than a streak of aggression. They thrive knowing that they have the top scores in the class or did the best on group projects. I'm not sure if Dominators are all that common with the millenniums (students in the 18-22 year old range), but it is still common with the Gen X'ers. I speak from experience (on a personal note: don't ever compete with my grad school group because we WILL decimate you!).

Little Darlings -- I call them this because I have the feeling they were mamma's little darlings growing up. These are the students who send you an email saying they over slept, but want to know what you covered in class that day. I actually had one walk in at the end of class the other day wanting to know what they missed. Yeah, right, get a clue. These are also the students who will use the class intranet site sending an email to the entire class begging for notes or a study partner without realizing that the teacher sees those as well.

The Invisibles -- As the name implies, these are students who you never see, usually because they are never there. You will see them on test day and will need an ID to verify they are enrolled in your class. Of course, they wonder why they don't do well in class, but they are never there to ask you why.

This is just a sampling of what I've seen in my classes. Of course some of these students you reach, and some of them you don't. There is a deep satisfaction when at the end of the semester, a student says they really enjoyed your class or has decided to make your subject their career. To me, that's what it's all about.

'70s style is back

Elton John or Rachel Hollon? You decide.

Welcome to my 3 weeks of hell

You know you are leaving the house way too early in the morning if the dogs are still asleep. The mornings I have to teach I leave the house by 6:15 and the dogs are still sound asleep. They don't even bother seeing if they can go with me. The only one in the house awake is Dexter, and being a cat, he doesn't care if I come or go, as long as his dish is full.

Here I am again at school for another 8 a.m. class. Only it's Saturday, and I'm a student, not a teacher. Last night was the first meeting of my weekend class. For the next three weeks, a group of us will meet Friday nights, from 6-9:30 and all day Saturday, from 8-5, to study creativity and problem solving. We will cover a full semester of work during this time, which means I will have no spare time, even during the week. Still, this is my last class and if last night was any indication, it will be very interesting.

The hardest part will be Fridays. I teach at 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. on Fridays, then I'm done for the day. Only I'm not done, as I have to hang out until class. Yesterday I spent the time editing the paper we had to turn at the start of class last night. Still, I arrived on campus at 7:15 a.m. and didn't leave until 9:45 p.m. After giving a friend a ride home, it was 11 when I got home. Morning came a bit early today. It's a good thing I can get away with jeans and a t-shirt. Studentship has its benefits. :-)

Need to scoot; class starts in a bit.

Litter box

Guess Dexter is hinting that his kitty litter needs changed.

Welcome, new blogger!

A new person joined the world of blogging yesterday. Somehow Doug and I convinced his mom to start blogging. Feel free to check it out. For years she has been writing an email called her Daily Saga, and when we started blogging we told her how easy it was and how this might be an interesting alternative to email, especially as she can publish from any computer (heck, I published from Hawaii). This weekend I showed her a bit of the blog and offered to set one up for her. Low and behold, when she got back home she did it herself. Now that she's done her first post, I can't wait to see the rest.

Austin travelogue, part 2

Today was the sort of day that makes you love living in Austin. The day was gorgeous, sunny, clear and warm -- the thermometer in Doug's parents' truck said it was in the 80s. A stark contrast from yesterday's drizzle and a nice reprieve for Doug's parents from a Midwestern winter.

Like yesterday, Doug and I were on a mission to introduce his parents to different aspects of Austin. We started the day at one of our favorite places for brunch -- Moonshine Patio. With the nice weather we were able to sit outside. Doug's mom had a mimosa while the rest of us had a poinsettia, or champagne and cranberry juice.

After brunch we drove to Wimberley, a little town southwest of Austin. Wimberley has the feel of an artists' community and you can spend hours looking through the little shops. Doug and I got turned on to an Austin artist, Manuel Garza. He has such great details in his paintings. One neat thing, he paints a cardinal in each of his paintings and his signature includes a butterfly.

We only got to spend an hour in Wimberley as we had tickets to an afternoon play at the Zachary Scott Theatre. The play was Urinetown and it was easy to see why it won three Tony awards in 2002. Although the title of the musical is a bit unseemly, the play is hilariously funny and is a satire of some of the great Broadway shows. The show actually mocks itself with Little Sally adamant that no one is going to go see a show with the title Urinetown. The play tells the story of what happens when we don't manage our natural resources and face a drought (very appropriate right now in Texas). But in the telling of the story, you are not sure if you are watching Urinetown or another show. For example, Act 2 starts out with a scene reminiscent of Fiddler on the Roof. You also see glimpses of Annie, Big River and West Side Story. And just so you won't get confused with what is supposed to happen when in a play, Officer Lockstock takes the time to explain to Little Sally how musicals are set up ("I can't just tell you about Urinetown, it has to unfold" or "this is the finale of the first act, which means it's a big number with all the cast members").

Because we volunteer at the Zach, Doug and I see a lot of shows there. This really has to be the best one in awhile and we are looking forward to working it and seeing it again.

By the time the show was over, it was 5 o'clock. Doug's parents were a bit tired. They are leaving tomorrow and want to pack, so we called it a day. However, they did say that they really enjoyed their weekend and were able to discover a lot of new Austin places to add to their list. They are already plotting their next trip to Austin.

Tour of Austin, travelogue part 1

Whenever there is a first time visitor to Austin, it's pretty obvious where to take them -- the standard sights to see. But what does one do with visitors who have been here several times over the past half dozen years? Such is the quandary we face with the visit of Doug's parents this weekend, who came down to see him and escape the northern Missouri winter.

They arrived Thursday night. Since it was Thursday, it was brew night and they got to experience Doug and Robert brewing beer. They have been to Austin enough that they went to some of the their favorite places (like Book People) on Friday while we were at work, and on Friday night we took his folks out to dinner and to catch the Austin Wranglers.

But what to do for Saturday, something his folks hadn't done before? We decided to start the day with breakfast at Maria's Taco Xpress on South Lamar. We really didn't want a heavy breakfast, so we figured breakfast tacos would hit the spot. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that in the six years Doug and I have lived here, we haven't once frequented this Austin landmark. After all, we live in the northern suburbs and that's quite a drive just to get breakfast tacos. Let's face it, there is basically a place on every corner in town to get breakfast tacos, so why drive? But this restaurant was featured on Rachel Ray's $40 a Day and we thought his parents would get a kick out of it. Ends up that the drive was well worth it -- the migas breakfast tacos were outstanding. Doug said that if Maria ever opened up north, he would be there every weekend. Alas, the funkiness of the place can only exist in South Austin.

We had planned to go to the Sunset Valley Farmer's Market after breakfast, but the much-needed rain put a crimp in those plans. Instead we headed out towards Johnson City and visited one of our favorite Texas wineries, Texas Hills Vineyard. I think they have one of the pretties tasting rooms around. We sampled a variety of wines and Jim & Barb and Doug & I both bought a couple of bottles.

Leaving Texas Hills, we continued north on Hwy. 281 to Hwy. 29. We decided we would take Doug's parents to the see the eagles. While they said that they have eagles in Missouri, once we got to the nest, they were impressed. We were able to spot all three adults. We still haven't seen the eaglets, but maybe that is an excuse for Doug and I to make another trip in a few weeks.

Since it was lunchtime, we headed on in to Llano and to Coopers barbecue. This was the first time we've been there that there wasn't a line around the building. I guess the rain kept the bikers away. Doug's parents were very impressed with Coopers, but like our last visit, Doug and I weren't "wowed."

Doug's parents were getting a bit tired, so we headed home, taking the scenic route of FM 1431 past Inks Lake and Lake LBJ. Doug and I still say we can see his parents becoming snowbirds and getting a place on the Highland Lakes so his dad could spend all winter fishing.

We let his folks rest up for a few hours and then took them to an Austin Ice Bats hockey game. The minor league team was playing the Oklahoma City Blazers. What was interesting is that they were calling it the "Red River Shoot Out" and the Bats were wearing Longhorn jerseys and OKC was wearing OU jerseys. It actually was a bit confusing as I wanted to yell out "Go Horns!" instead of "Go Bats!"

The game was pretty exciting and we had fun. There were a couple of fights, with one of the OKC players clocking one of the Bats in the face with his stick. The game ended in a tie. When this happens in minor league hockey, it goes into a five minute overtime period. This too ended in a tie. Next step -- a shoot off. This is where five players from each team get to shoot for a goal. At this point, it's only the player against the goalie. The team that shoots the most goals wins the game. The tension builds with every shot, but the Ice Bats pulled it through to win the game.

Today we have another full day planned, complete with brunch at one of our favorite places and a play at the Zach Scott. The travelogue will continue later.

Batty for hockey

Tonight we went to the Austin Ice Bats minor league hockey game. Here I am with Fang, the team mascot. It was a very exciting game. The game went into overtime and the Ice Bats won in a shoot out.

Wrangling up some football

Doug's parents are visiting this weekend. Tonight we had dinner at Threadgill's, an Austin landmark. We went to the north location and Jim got a kick out of eating at one of Janis Joplin's old hang outs.

Tonight we attended the season opener of the Austin Wranglers, the local arena football team. They played Las Vegas. Besides being indoors, the field is half the size and there are only 8 players on the field. The game is much faster and the scores are a lot higher -- tonight's score was 64 to 46, Wranglers. Go Wranglers! These games are a lot of fun, it's almost a cross between football and hockey. Like hockey, the players are slammed against the boards on the sidelines. Also like hockey, there is a lot of fun and games and audience interaction -- sumo wrestling, races, fun-loving mascots and folks throwing t-shirts to audience members. The game isn't taken too seriously.

After the game, we stopped at Amy's Ice Cream on Guadalupe. It was a sweet way to end the evening.

Working man

Doug started a new contract yesterday. It's a three month contract with G-Tech, a company that develops lottery software. The headquarters is in Rhode Island, but has a big development operation here in Austin. Doug will be traveling some and already has his first trip to Rhode Island scheduled.

I thought I would do something nice for him for dinner, so I decided I would make one of his favorite dishes -- fried pork tenderloin. Actually his favorite dish is a tenderloin sandwich from Hy-Vee, a grocery store in his hometown of Chillicothe, MO. Now I've never thought a deli grill at a grocery store is gourmet dining, but evidently this sandwich is nirvana and all the people who have moved away make sure they pray at the alter of the tenderloin sandwich whenever they visit Chillicothe.

I didn't actually make the sandwich (that's leftovers tonight), I simply made the tenderloin. Being from the south, you would expect that I love breaded and fried meats and vegetables, but really, I don't like them that much and I don't like the mess and smell of frying food, so I have never tried to make friend tenderloin before. Plus, I figure if you have a nice cut of meat like a tenderloin, you do best to roast it with rosemary and garlic; frying it with breadcumbs is almost sacrilege. At the very least, taking a 4-inch round tenderloin and pounding the crap out of it until it is a 1/4-inch flat piece of meat takes more time and effort than I usually want to expend. My shoulder is still sore this morning.

Still, Doug appreciated it, and we have enough leftovers that he can have a tenderloin sandwich tonight. I did ask him how it compared to Hy-Vee and while he liked what I did, my tenderloin cannot hold a candle to Hy-Vee. I guess he'll have to go visit Chillicothe soon.

Chilly weather is chili weather

Winter has finally arrived in central Texas. For most of January the high temperatures have been in the 60s and 70s and while it gets down to the 40s at night, we haven't had to run our heater. That is, until yesterday. Yesterday the highs were in the 40s and it was sort of rainy. Right now we are going through a drought so we welcome precipitation but yesterday it was toying with us. It was misting and dark, but there wasn't enough rain to do more than just frizz your hair.

With the weather being so yucky, we decided it was perfect chili weather. I was really hankering for a pork chili verde, so that's what we did. I took some of our frozen Hatch chiles and mixed a bag of mild chiles with a few hot chiles. I also added tomatillos, onion, shallots and garlic. I cubed and browned a pork loin and added that to the chiles, added chicken broth and some of Doug's homemade Mexican Pilsner Pepper beer. I let everything cook together for 2-3 hours, until most of the liquid had cooked off. I served it over rice, with Monterrey Jack cheese. Yummy. The first bite was mild, like most chili verde, but the after taste was spicy. It was pretty yummy and just perfect for the weather.

I do hope this cold snap doesn't last too long, though.

School daze

Sorry for the limited postings this week. School started Tuesday and there is all the stuff one has to get done at the beginning of the semester. I am teaching two sections of Intro to Public Relations. The classes are MWF at 8 and 10 a.m. Ouch! That means I should leave the house by 6:15 to make sure I get there plenty of time and print out anything I need.

Actually, I don't mind those classes as much as I mind the thought of those classes. Traffic, while more than you might think at 6:30, moves rather quickly. Yesterday it took me 47 minutes from my driveway to the parking lot. A lot better than the 2 hours it took me to get home one night last semester. And because I arrive on campus before 7:30, I can actually park in the nearby parking lot and walk to my building. Granted, the lot is at the bottom of a steep hill, but it beats parking at the stadium and taking the bus.

The 8 a.m. class has about 50 students in it and they are more alert and want to participate in discussion more than you might think. The 10 a.m. class has close to 75 students and they are pretty quiet. There was still a lot of schedule changes last week, but my roster should be close to final by Monday.

As for the classes I'm taking, this is the semester to write my thesis. Most of the research is done. The other class I'm taking is an intensive three weekend (Friday night, Saturday all day) creativity class. It doesn't start for two weeks, but our team has already met, trying to formulate our game plan. I have paper due the first night in that class. In fact, I need to go so I can get started on it.

National Champions

Here in Austin we all are still celebrating the Longhorns winning the NCAA 2005 National Football Championship. Not to take anything away from that, but another local university recently won a different college championship. Just this week the Texas University Bobcats won the 2006 College Cheerleading and Dance Team Championship. It was the all-girl squad and was their third time to win the competition. The co-ed squad also did well, reaching the finals and placing eighth.

Granted, UT is a Tier 1 university and is one of the largest, most prestigious schools in the nation, but sometimes it feels like the accomplishments of the other local universities (there are at least five, not count community colleges, within 30 minutes of UT) are overshadowed by UT. Shouldn't we get some recognition too?

Last semester I was talking to someone who said that their little sister had transferred from Texas State to UT because of the strength of UT's advertising program. This person didn't realize that Texas State consistently wins the state American Advertising Federation student advertising competition (usually the biggest competition comes from SMU, not UT) and does well in the national competition. In fact, this summer the team won the national championship for the second time.

As for the Texas State football team, the conference it plays in actually has playoffs, and not bowl games. This fall the team made it all the way to the national semifinals before being beat. Since this happened during the lull of the UT season, we did get a bit of coverage on this, but the high school playoffs received more.

I'm sure this is not unique to Texas State -- I bet the other local colleges also sometimes feel like the redhead step-child compared to UT. I'm not saying that UT is unimportant, I would just like to see more press coverage regarding the other schools. The news doesn't have to be all UT. After all, isn't winning a national advertising championship just as newsworthy as losing the bid to run Los Alamos?

Don't know much about history

This morning I was driving to the downtown office where I have been freelancing over break. I am punching the dial on the radio, trying to see what Austin channel can hold my attention for more than a minute. I notice one station is doing the news, so I pause for a minute. They are airing the syndicated news from Fox News. The obligatory MLK stories air and there is one about Bush visiting the National Archives to examine the original copy of the Emancipation Proclamation. The "journalist" (and I use this term lightly) said that this was the document that led to the Civil War.

Huh?

For those of you who do not know, the Emancipation Proclamation was issued September, 1862 and went into effect January, 1863. The first battle of Civil War occurred in April, 1861 -- a full 17 months before the Emancipation Proclamation.

Fox News claims to be fair and balanced, but I guess there is a reason the don't claim to be accurate.

Although that was the end of the national news, that wasn't the end of the inaccuracies. This time it was a local reporter, talking about what MLK activities were going on today in Austin. "If he were alive today, it would be Dr. King's 77th birthday."

That's interesting -- Dr. King's birthday just always falls on a Monday. Actually, that's not true. It is always observed on a Monday so we can have a three-day weekend. Dr. King's birthday is actually Jan. 15.

I haven't decided whether I think these mistakes are more funny or more sad. No wonder Americans don't know their history -- their information sources are full of glaring errors.

Birds, barbecue and bottles of wine

Given that this was the last weekend before school starts, Doug and I were itching to do a day trip today. When we woke up, we decided that we would continue the barbecue quest we started a few weeks ago and head up to Cooper's in Llano. Our plan was to spend the day traversing the Highland Lakes area and see where we ended up. We loaded up the car with the dogs, maps and guidebooks and headed out.

We took Hwy. 29 from Georgetown and our first stop was to see the eagles' nest between Buchanan Dam and Llano. The area around Lake Buchanan is the winter home to some American Bald Eagles. The eagles, which are on the endangered species list, tend to return every year to the same nest. About three years ago a trio of eagles built a nest in a dead tree about a hundred yards off Hwy. 29. This has become quite the attraction with people coming from different parts of the state to see the birds. The Texas Game & Wildlife says this particular nest is the furthest west an eagle's nest has been built in Texas.

Because I lost my digital camera at the Cowboys game a couple of weeks ago, I couldn't get any good photos (camera phones don't do justice). You can, however, find some great photos on this site. While we were there, we were able to see two adults at the nest. One gentleman who is out there several days a week shooting photos said that the eaglettes have hatched, and we should be able to see them in a few weeks.

After the male flew off, Doug and I headed on our way to Coopers. On the way, we passed a lady with a flat tire, so karma demanded that we turn around and help. I'm glad we did. A truck had stopped, but he didn't have the tools Doug did. The spare was bolted in the trunk and the tire was shredded and had wrapped around the brake line. The lady was on the way to the hospital, where her granddaughter had been taken to the emergency room. Doug was able to get the lady back on the road in no time.

About 11:30 we arrived at Coopers. The thing about this place is that you go up to the pit and select your own meat. When we arrived, there were about 30 people in line. Once you get your food, you go inside to pay and eat. There are six long picnic tables inside and you just pick a spot and eat, usually sitting next to a stranger. The inside was packed, and that wasn't even counting all the folks who were getting to go orders. Coopers is definitely popular, especially with the hunters and motorcycle riders, both of whom were out in force today.

Today we had some of the best pork ribs I have ever had. However, our other meat didn't live up to our previous experience with Coopers. Both the sausage and the prime rib were luke warm at best, and I swear at least 1/2 pound of the prime rib was a hunk of fat -- and you pay by the pound. Oh well, the dogs got to eat some expensive table scrapes. Still, we do enjoy Coopers and will go back. Photos from Coopers are below. You first see the smoker and then the next photo is the rows of barbecue pits. You can see the guy getting our food off the pit, and Doug enjoying his lunch.




















After leaving Coopers, we decided to head a bit north and visit a couple of wineries we had never been to. These wineries are in a dry county and until a few years ago, could not have a tasting room. During the Wine Trail weekends, these wineries would hold tastings in a bed and breakfast near Stonewall. Now the law has changed and it was our first time to go visit.

We first stopped at Alamosa Wine Cellars, but if they had a tasting room, it didn't look open, so we didn't stop. We decided to head on to Lampasas and Pillar Bluff Vineyards. We got to sit and chat awhile, and of course, sample seven wines. We opted to purchase a bottle of their Muscat and a bottle of their White Merlot, both that will be good hot-weather wines.

After that, we decided to head home. As always, we enjoyed our trip exploring the hill country. Eagles, barbecue and wine -- what more could one want in a weekend?

Are you a nerd?

Take this Nerd Test and post your results in the comments (you don't have to register to post a comment -- simply click "Other" or "Anonymous" and you can post a reply).

I scored a 15. According to the results, this means I'm not nerdy, but then again maybe not all that cool either. Ha!

Homegrown goodies

This morning I was in the mood to have breakfast at the Sunset Valley Farmer's Market. This south Austin farmer's market is truly an Austin original. While most farmer's markets are filled to the bins with fresh fruits and vegetables, in this market you have to search to find the fresh tomatoes. Yes, there are vegetables, organic of course, but the stalls are more likely to be filled with jellies, sweets, spices, jewelry, soy candles, lavender patchouli soap and dog biscuits. You never know what you'll see at the farmer's market -- today Austin Powers was on hand.

Being Austin, there was a band playing and one stall was doing a dance demonstration. Local writer Jim Hightower was doing a book signing. While there we picked up some treats for the dogs and grabbed a couple of pesto foccacia rolls from Living Arts Bakery, which was our reason for heading to the market in the first place. There was both Greek and Turkish food to go, fresh cheeses and instead of peanut butter, we sampled pecan butter -- it was REALLY good. We sampled a chocolate brownie made with rose -- quite interesting. Doug talked to one guy who was selling nectar, thinking he might be able to utilize the nectar in either a batch of mead or beer, but since that vendor is there every week, Doug decided to hold off. While there were interesting things at most of the stalls, in the end the only thing we bought, other than breakfast, were some dog treats.

Of course, being a farmer's market, there were some farm animals. We got see some baby sheep and a longhorn, but we couldn't take either home. The only thing that would make going to the market better is if it wasn't so far away from where we live. Unfortunately the farmer's markets closer to our house tend to specialize in produce only.

Movies -- viewer experience at its worst

I am a movie buff. I like watching good movies and can watch the same movie 50 times. This goes back to being a little girl and watching movies like Giant or An Imitation of Life with my mom. I can tell you everything about the movie, the stars and the stories behind my favorite movies. The DVD director commentaries were developed for people like me.

Then I met Doug, who made me look like a movie novice. When I met Doug, he basically would watch any movie that came out. He's getting better, but like today, he watched Harold & Kumar Go To Whitecastle on television and is looking forward to the sequel. Still, we are a good match when it comes to movies.

But over the past year we are attending movies less. One major reason is our schedule. It was very difficult for us this fall to have 2-3 hours to catch a weekend matinee. The second reason was just the quality of movies. For most of the fall, there were no great reasons to make time to go see a movie; the so-so movies are ending up on cable soon enough. However, there is a third reason, and it's the one that generally ruins the movie for us -- our viewer experience. It is getting really bad lately here in Austin.

I'm not just talking about customer service -- that's mediocre enough. And some of that customer service is just bush-league stuff. For example, while we don't do Internet tickets, often we purchase our tickets from the kiosk inside the Cinemark theatre. There are no lines and I like to play with the touch screen. But a few weeks ago we were standing behind a guy at the kiosk and I noticed something -- the screen software has changed and the credit card number, in full, and the card expiration date, now appears on the screen. I could have taken a photo of that with my camera phone and made my Christmas purchases using this guy's card. Needless to say, we have started once again to stand in line at the outside box office to get our tickets.

The thing that really ruins my movie experience, however, is the dreaded movie talker. Since when is it okay to talk throughout the movie? Please tell me, as I missed the memo. Is this a new Austin trend that I am missing out on?

At home, if we need to talk or want to make a comment, we hit pause, have our say, then return to the show without missing a word of dialogue (the wonders of digital satellite). I wish I could do the same thing when someone starts talking in the theatre.

Today we went to see Memoirs of a Geisha. School doesn't start until next week and Doug has a couple of weeks until his next contract starts, so what better time to catch up on movies than Tuesday afternoon. Unfortunately several Chatty Cathys thought the same thing. We had two senior women who sat a few seats down from us and they didn't know what a whisper was and decided they needed to narrate the story. I tried my death-ray stare several times, but they were so enthralled with themselves that they didn't notice. After about 15 minutes of this, I got up and moved two rows back. Doug sat there for a minute, looked backed at me and decided to do the same. That wasn't the end of it, though. I could still hear the ladies two rows up and now, behind us, we had some other ladies behind us who were whisperers. At least they knew what a quiet voice was. Still, it was annoying.

This is not a one-time thing. Last week we saw Casanova. Again, only a few folks in the theatre, but a couple in their 50s were in the row behind us and a few seats over. While the wife seemed to realize they were being annoying, the husband could not keep from asking questions and providing commentary and again, did not use his quiet voice. The death-ray stare seemed to get the attention of the wife, but she could not stop the husband. Finally, after about 90 minutes of this, Doug turned and said rather loudly, "sir, we do not need your commentary." The husband responded, "thank you," and then kept quiet for the remaining 15 minutes of the film. At least Doug didn't have to resort to standing up in front of the guy, blocking the view, although he has successfully utilized that tactic a time or two.

Two weeks ago we went to see King Kong. The movie had been open about a month but the theatre was still a bit crowded. Again, behind us and to the side sat the movie talkers. Now one talker, I had some sympathy for -- the gentleman was in his early 20s and was slightly developmentally disabled. I could forgive him, as I realized how thrilled he was with the movie. However, I could not forgive the person who was with him -- maybe it was his mom. Not only did she not make an attempt to let him know that talking was inappropriate, she would respond to his questions in a normal tone of voice. The death-ray stare worked at first to get her to lower a voice to a whisper, but the stare lost all effectiveness when they decided that the theatre was their living room and as such, put their feet on the back of the chairs in front of them (which were next to me). As I turned to give the stare, all I could see were shoes. I don't know about you, but my momma taught me something about not having shoes on furniture.

About the only movie we've seen in Austin this past month wasn't ruined by a talker was Brokeback Mountain. I'm not sure if that's because the audience for that movie is more sophisticated and bigger movie fans, or if just some of the scenes were shocking enough to leave some people speechless. Either way, that was the best experience we had in awhile.

I'm not sure what the answer is ... maybe we do wait until the movies come out on HBO. Still part of the joy of seeing a movie is watching it on the big screen. It's just ashame that the experience is being ruined by a few thoughtless others.

A case of the Mondays

"Someone's got a case of the Mondays" ... and it's me. For those who don't recognize that quote, it's from Office Space, a movie that would be hilariously funny and if it weren't typical of 99.8% of the jobs at tech companies. But I digress.

Today was the Monday of all Mondays. It started at 2:30 a.m. when Dante woke me up to let him out. I left open the door between our bedroom and the living room (the path to the doggy door and outside) so that he could get back in. However, for some reason, Dante forgot that he went out the doggy door and started scratching on the outside door to our bedroom, wanting to come back in. There is a reason he earned the nickname "Cement Head." After 5 minutes he figured out that he could come back through the doggy door.

After this, I was having trouble falling back asleep. It didn't help matters that Doug was snoring pretty loud. After an hour of not being able to fall asleep, I decided to try the couch.

Unfortunately, my Monday didn't end when I finally fell back asleep. After a short, restless night of sleep, the alarm went off and I got ready for work. As I was driving downtown, I got a flat tire. I was in the middle lane of I-35 and luckily was able to make it to the shoulder. I checked the tire and called Doug. I figured we could change cars and he could get the flat fixed. As I waited for him to arrive, I noticed two other cars pulled over ahead of me. One ran out of gas, the other had another flat. Three cars in need of roadside assistance within 100 yards of each other -- one should stay away from I-35 at the Braker Lane overpass.

Finally I got into the office, but my Monday continued. My main project for today was researching reporters in a media database. Unfortunately, the database was being temperamental, taking me twice as long to get the research done as it should have.

Unfortunately, some Mondays are like that. I did get my project done and Doug was my hero by fixing the flat and cooking dinner. Now if I can get caught up on my sleep tonight, tomorrow should be much better.

Dogs driving cars

I've heard of dogs playing poker but never dogs driving cars. However, Dante and Allegra decided to take a spin this morning.

RateMyProfessor.com

I must have paid big bucks for this student review. :-) Just kidding. I truly don't think I'm am "easy" professor, but then again, PR is not brain surgery. I don't try to be purposely hard and I want to make sure the students have clarity on the content. I also try to make sure that the students have objectives and understand what it is that they need to know. If that's being "easy" then I am glad to be easy.

Busy week

I apologize for no postings this week. Last weekend we traveled to Dallas to celebrate the new year with my family. My parents were in town visiting my sister Chris. We had Christmas with the girls. Doug and I bought them a game table, where they can play fusbol, ping pong, shuffle board and pool. The girls seemed to really like it and when Kelsey got back from a New Year Eve's party, she started putting it together. I think mom also liked her gifts.

For New Year's Eve, we just hung out at my sister's house. Chris & Mark, mom & Lauren, and Doug & I played Cranium. It was fun, especially when Lauren kept picking categories where she would have to act, sing or perform, and she would proceed to ask, "will I know this?" I really just prefer a low key New Years. We either stay home and do something like have a dinner and movie night (like cooking my special pasta bolognese and watching The Godfather) or we have a few friends over or go over to a friend's house. I have never understood going out to some place that is incredibly packed to pay a premium. I would rather go to that same place a week later when it's not so crowded or expensive. I'm the same with Valentine's Day.

For New Years day, my other sister, Stacey, and her fiance flew to Dallas and we all went to the Cowboys game. The game was okay -- it would have been more interesting if the Redskins hadn't won earlier that day. Unfortunately I left my camera at the stadium and no one turned it in. I have my camera phone, but my Canon was pretty nice. Plus we hadn't downloaded the holiday photos.

This week I have been doing work at Blanc & Otus, the PR firm I worked at this summer. I've been helping with some research, particularly blog research. I think I must have reviewed 2 million blogs this week (okay, not that much, but still enough that I don't want to come home and get online). I still have some more work to finish up for them this week.

Bailing on the 'boys

The crowd is thinning out during the fourth quarter. The Rams are ahead, the Cowboys are making stupid mistakes and the game doesn't matter. But the crowd sure cleared fast.

Go Cowboys!

We are at the end of the first quarter and the score is 7 to 0, Cowboys. However, even if the 'boys win, they won't be in the play offs. The Redskins spoiled it for the earlier this afternoon.

Tailgating

We are in Dallas this weekend, celebrating the holidays with my family. Tonight we are going to the Cowboys football game with my sister and their significant others. Here we are before the game tailgating.

How to order wine

As many of our friends know, Doug and I really enjoy a good bottle of wine. For those of you who occasionally like to order wine when dining out, Waiter Rant has put together a good guide on how to order wine in a restaurant. If you have time, read the comments as well. A few of the folks are right on track, especially about the Spanish wines. Rioja is one of our favorite varietals. As for wine from Argentina, our Women of Wine and the Men Who Adore Them group had an Argentinean tasting in October and we did like them. Still, my money is on super Tuscans. I will take that most any day.

Barbecue wars

Today we are on a day trip to Shiner. On our way we stopped in Lockhart for lunch. Lockhart is known for it's barbecue and more importantly, its family feud between barbecue joints own competing family members. Today we sampled the barbecue at Kreuz Market. It was okay, but to be honest, we prefer Cooper's in Llano. We may need to do a road trip up there next week.

Who's the biggest snooper?

The other day I wrote about how Doug was snooping and found his Christmas present. I also talked about how I have been known to occasionally try to catch a peak at my presents. For the last few days we've been arguing on who is the biggest snoop in the house. On Christmas Eve we figured it out.

It's the dogs. Dante & Allegra are the biggest snoops.

It seems as though lately the dogs have been into presents. They haven't always been, and for several years they ignored presents under the Christmas tree. About a year ago that started to change. Somehow they figured out that there were presents suitable for dogs, and even if they weren't dog gifts, they were fun when you tore open the paper. Of course, you had to hide anything you opened because mommy and daddy would be mad. Their fascination with presents extends beyond Christmas; at any gift giving occasion the dogs insist on being right there to help you open your present. It has become quite annoying. As such, we didn't place any presents under the tree for fear of the dogs destroying them.

Christmas Eve we spent most of the day cleaning the house to have guest over for Christmas dinner (another post to come). I decided it was time to put presents under the tree to have the finishing touch. That night we were going to a couple of Christmas parties so we decided to lock the dogs outside. After all, it was a nice night and they should be okay. We left the house that evening with the knowledge that everything was secure.

We were wrong. Our first hint that something was amiss was when we pulled into our driveway after 1 a.m. As we headed inside, we could hear Dante scratching at the door, excited that we were home. "Those bastards got inside," Doug said as he reached to unlock the door. Sure enough, they did.

As Doug went to find out how they were able to get in, I saw the scraps of Christmas wrapping shredded on the carpet and begun to assess the damage. The stock that Doug's mom sent me was not under the tree where we left it, but in the dining room. There were pieces of wrapping paper around it. As I took the stocking back to the tree, I looked at the presents. "Make sure your gift from me is still there," Doug yelled from the kitchen, still trying to figure how the escape artists did there trick. Yes, that present was there, as were most of the rest of them. The only ones that were missing were the four presents for the dogs -- special treats about the size of candy bars. The dogs went straight for those, eating them whole, and leaving everything else intact.

We're still not exactly sure how the dogs did it, but they ended up popping out the metal door to their doggy door. This metal door slides down to close the door. Doug hadn't been able to get the door shut all the way, but the crack at the bottom was too small for a cat, much less a couple of labs. The dogs must have put there paws under the door and pulled until it popped off its hinges. This from dogs who, like this morning, were let outside through their doggy door, which was left open, but forgot and wouldn't stop scratching at the bedroom door until we let them in.

Of course the net result of this is that dogs ruined their own Christmas. Because they ate their presents on Christmas Eve, they had nothing to open Christmas morning. They wanted to help us and sample what we received, but we weren't in an accommodating mood.

At least Doug and I don't have to argue any more. We now know who the biggest snoops are in the house when it comes to presents.

No snooping at Christmas time!

We have a tradition each year of purchasing a few ornaments for the Christmas tree that are symbolic for the year. For example, the year Doug ran his first marathon we purchased an ornament with 26.2 on it (that’s the distance of a marathon). This year we hung an ornament we purchased on our trip to Hawaii with Santa doing the hula.

Last January we went to Disney World, and while there we purchased several Christmas ornaments. When we arrived home we put the ornaments in a safe place where the dogs wouldn’t get them. Unfortunately, the place was a bit too safe as we couldn’t remember where we put them. For the last week I have spent some time each day searching for the box that the ornaments were in. I knew they had to be around here, but I just couldn’t find them.

Yesterday I was looking yet again in our bedroom. Doug kept swearing they were in there, but that’s where I had the Hawaii ornaments. I opened one of his dresser drawers and noticed a stack of gift cards. “Hey Doug, look at what I found.” He has a really bad habit of putting gift cards given to him in safe places and forgetting about them. One of the cards in the stack was a gift certificate I gave him when we first started dating in 1998.

Doug comes in and looks, and as I am putting the gift cards back, he decides to help me look for the Disney ornaments. He turns to the top of armoire, looks behind a stack of books and grabs a bag. “Hey, here’s a Best Buy bag, do you think they could be…”

Before he finishes the sentence, my head rotates 180 on my body, like something from the Exorcist. “Put that down!” I command, sounding like I am accusing of stealing the gold from Fort Knox. He just stares at me a minute and then sets the bag down. “You know better than to poke around at Christmas time!” I yell. With this, he starts laughing. I walk towards him saying, “you shouldn’t be such a snoop.” As the words come out of my mouth, he starts laughing harder, grabbing his belly and falling to the bed. The dogs think he’s having a seizure and start barking and licking him. As he wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes, he manages to say, “That’s the pot calling the kettle black – you have no room to talk.”

Okay, he has me there. I have quite a reputation for being a snoop, especially when it comes to presents. I like to say it was my journalism training combined with being a woman, but I was snooping long before my first journalism class. When I was young, I would take the wrapped presents from under the tree, slit open the tape on the side of the present, and see what was in the box. I knew that mom kept the Santa presents hide in her closet. I know peaking was horrible, but I was a kid.

Now that I’m older, I’m still a snoop, but not to the extent of purposely trying to find presents or unwrapping them. Still, Doug takes precautions. One year, when we were still living in Dallas, he decided to hide my present in the clothes dryer. I’m not really sure why, but I guess he figured I’d wouldn’t look in there. One morning I got up and reached in the dryer to grab a towel before heading to the shower. Luckily, I didn’t have my contacts in and was blind as a bat. Doug, however, wasn’t and saw this happen. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t even breathe, until I got into the shower. I missed the present by a half an inch and he decided he wasn’t going to let that happen again, so he grabbed the present out of the dryer and hid it someplace else while I was in the shower.

Of course he knows I have this insatiable curiosity and tries to bate me with it. “You know, your present is just sitting unwrapped on the front seat of the green car,” he tells me last night. He wants to see if I’ll go look. One year, to throw me off, he took huge box, filled it with computer manuals, just so I wouldn’t guess that inside was a pair of earrings. He loves trying to get me and makes a game of it. Unfortunately, when it comes to presents he doesn’t care. If his present was in bag in the front of the red car, he would take the car to run errands and never look in the bag. He makes me so mad that he doesn’t care, which he thinks is hilarious.

So of course, when he grabbed the bag, which had his present in it, I knew he wasn’t purposely peaking at his present. I also realized that the top of the armoire was a stupid place to hide it, even though he never looks up there and it was just temporary spot until he left the house and I could wrap the present.

Now he knows what one of his presents is, which he loves because he can tease me about it, only not too much, he he’s not quite sure if I will return it like I said I would, disappointing him because he wants that present. He also continues to taunt me about the present he got me. It’s just not fair. Luckily, we finally found the Disney ornaments this afternoon and they are on the tree. Too bad we could find them before Doug decided to snoop.

International Santa, Austin edition

This year as I was setting up my International Santa display, I started wondering what the Austin version would look like. After all, the Australian Santa is wearing swim trunks as it is summer down under, and the Irish Santa wears green instead of red. What would an Austin Santa look like? This is what I came up with:

• He would be wearing sandals, preferably Birkenstock.
• Instead of a red wool coat, Austin Santa would wear a red guayabera with white embroidery.
• Austin Santa's beard would be silver, in the aging hippie style, instead of white, and his hair would be long as well.
• He'd wear a funky pair of wire-rimmed shades and some sort of bead necklace. He would also be sporting a yellow LiveStrong bracelet.
• For a hat, he'd wear a straw, raffia western-style hat, one that was Austin-cool, NOT cowboy.
• He'd have his wireless laptop with him, so he could connect most anywhere in this wireless mecca.
• In his hand, he'd be carrying either a margarita or a Shiner Bock.
• He'd have a tattoo on his forearms.
• Instead of carrying a bag full of toys, Santa Austin would have a guitar strapped across his back. After all, he never knows when he could get into a jam session in the Live Music Capital.
• Austin Santa would have traded in his reindeer for a more eco-friendly hybrid sleigh.
• At the various houses, he would expect soy milk (not cow's milk) and cookies from the bakery at Whole Foods.

So where would you find Austin Santa? This time of year he'd be hanging at the Trail of Lights and catching "Santaland Diaries" at the Zach. He'd probably be hanging out on Sixth Street, playing the guitar, hoping to catch a few coins. Maybe he'd even chat it up with Leslie a bit. Most of all, Austin Santa would be doing his part to Keep Austin Weird.

Santa, My Santa

My obsession with Santa Claus continued this week when I purchased more International Santas. My collection began in 2001 when Doug saw them at Dillards and thought they would be a great gift for me. My collection has since grown to 56.

These 5-inch figurines represent various countries and each come with a different story about the Christmas tradition in that country. Santas come from such countries as South Korea (Santa Grandfather) to Italy (Babbo Natale) to Finland (Joulupukki ). There is a Santa from Australia who is wearing swimming trunks as it is summer down under, and there is an Eskimo Santa with a husky by his side. Each December as I unwrap them and put them out, I think about the various ways Christmas is celebrated around the world.

Leading survey

I just received a telephone call that was a 1 minute Texas political survey. The first thing I noticed is that it was all automated -- I wasn't talking to a real person on the other end and could just answer yes/no. I wasn't too fond of that. Especially since I would have given an earful to the person regarding the questions.

This survey was full of leading questions -- you know the ones, sort of like "do you still beat your wife?" Obviously this survey had an agenda and I decided to ride it out. In my Intro to PR class I spend a day covering surveys, and while not in too much detail, I would think that my students would know not to ask questions like this. By the time they graduate the PR majors take a Research Methods class and in there they darn well learn not to ask those questions. Maybe this pollster should go back to school.

So what were the questions? Things like "Do you think Ronnie Earle is once again playing politics with the Tom DeLay indictment?", "Do you think the government should be allowed to take about your house to build a building?" and "Do you think the government should allow school vouchers so that parents can send their children to the best school possible?" How do you answer these questions -- no, I don't want to send children to the best possible schools.

The more the survey went on, the more frustrated I got. I realized whoever was doing this poll was going to use it for their own agenda and own spin. Still, I was curious and didn't want to hang up, so instead I became a bit obstinate. School vouchers? No. Would I vote for Gov. Perry? No. Am I a Republican? No. Am I a Democrat? No. Is Ronnie Earle playing politics? No. Is my property tax too high? No.

After a minute all the questions are asked and the automated voice thanked me for my participation and informed me that the survey was sponsored by the Texas Republican Party. Yeah, I definitely think they need to go back to school.

Famous blogger :-)

Austinist cited my Napoleon Dynamite post as one of the posts of the week for last week. I appreciate all the visitors who are coming to the blog to read the post. Feel free to poke around. I try to post several times a week about things I see around Austin and things that we are doing.

An apple for the teacher

This semester went pretty well, although there were some bumpy spots. But I was learning and everything ended up fairly smooth. I was actually surprised, but several students said they really enjoyed my class. I got hugs, comments like 'you're my favorite teacher' and others, like:

This class was very helpful and if I wasn't so far along in my academic career I
would pursue a PR degree.

I really enjoyed having you as my teacher.

I just wanted to say thank you for an awesome semester!! I feel like I learned so much in your class. When I first came to college, I thought I wanted to major in broadcast journalism and didn't declare a major until last year when I became a Public Relations major, but I was still a little unsure of what I wanted to do. But I loved your class so much and now I know for sure that I want to major in Public Relations.

I even got a gift from a student that I helped by introducing her to some potential employers.

All of these comments were unsolicited. I truly expected that my first semester would be mediocre at the best. These comments made me feel good, and more importantly, made me feel like I was reaching the students and giving them something that would be helpful in their careers. After all, I tried to approach it from what I would want them to know if I were hiring them to work on my PR team.

But I guess some profs might not get it. The other day I was at school and passed a certain prof in the hall. I mentioned that I was grading my finals and then my first semester of teaching would be finished. The prof asked how it was and I responded positively, and mentioned how several of my students said they really liked the class and how I was their favorite teacher. The prof's response, "They are just trying to butter you up for a better grade."

I love the warm, caring support of senior faculty to new teachers. Screw it. I wonder when the last time this prof got a thank you note from one of their students.

At least my students and I know the truth. :-)

The wait is over

The wait is over, I finally received my grades. The prof never did email them, though. I just had to wait until the university posted them. As such, I still don't know what I received on my paper. But I guess the paper doesn't matter as much as the final grade.

One more class, and my thesis, and grad school is over.

Topper, aka Napoleon Dynamite

This Dilbert cartoon from Monday reminds me of a guy in our department. I call him Napoleon Dynamite.

Napoleon Dynamite is a second-year masters student/graduate assistant in our department. Just like the movie, Napoleon is tall, lanky and annoying as hell. He creates these fantastic stories and tends to piss people off; the guy has few friends. The only difference between our Napoleon and the movie is that ours doesn't have a 'fro and his voice is more whiney.

Our first inkling that this guy was Napoleon was a party last fall that a prof threw. Out of 8 GAs, 7 of us were new and we were all just getting to know each other. K had been a GA the previous semester and just a sweet as could be. We started talking and I found out she was training for the Chicago Marathon. I was envious, as my leg was in a brace from a car wreck. Come to find out that the previous year we had both trained for the same local marathon under the same program; she in the town where she was an undergrad, me locally. She actually ran the marathon while I got a stomach virus the night before. I was very depressed about doing all my training only to be sidelined. This was going to be my year until the car wreck two weeks before the program started.

Needless to say I was interested in her training for Chicago and was discussing what we had heard of the route. We were talking paces and finish times when Napoleon jumped. "You know when I was in the Army I ran a marathon in full gear up a mountain. I finished in 3 hours." K and I just looked at each other. The fastest marathon time ever is just over 2 hours -- you have to be damn fast to do a 3 hour marathon -- that's a 7 minute pace for 26.2 miles. Impossible with full gear and up a mountain. It took the fastest guy I know 6 hours to complete Pike's Peak -- the lack of oxygen at higher levels can just drain you.

Yeah, Napoleon, whatever. And you hunted a pack of wolverines last summer in Alaska.

As the school year progressed, we found this guy full of wild stories. No matter what you've done, he's done it too, only better. One day I told K, "You know, if I said I was pregnant, he would say he had given birth to triplets last year." We started associating the song from Annie Get Your Gun with him.

"Anything you can do, I can do better. Anything you can do, I can do too."

So the school year went on. Napoleon had a tendency to latch on to sweet young girls who would be too nice to him to tell him to get the F*&% away. When one girl broke up with her Army Ranger boyfriend, Napoleon was right there, borderline stalking and just way creepy. There were actually some girls who made a complaint against him when he got in their face about something after a class. I wasn't in that class and the details are fuzzy, but I know the girls and Napoleon had to go discuss it with university officials.

Then there was the incident about getting out of the reserves and not going to Iraq. Evidently he got called up to go to Iraq but was too sick with some phantom disease to go. This drama went on for a couple of months and he had a lawyer to try to get out of it. The Army kept denying his claims. It was high drama. Not that you ever want someone to go to war, but most of us weren't going to be sad if he was sent, especially since several of us grew up in military families. At the last minute the Army decided he didn't have to go. It was like, "oh, yeah, I don't have to go to Iraq." Two months of high drama and all he could talk about, and then it was just a passing thought. Go figure.

We never imagined that Napoleon would be back this year. One, we didn't think he had the stick-to-it-ness needed for the job. After all, he told us he's had more than 30 different jobs, including his time in the Army. Second, we couldn't imagine the department allowing him to continue as a GA, and if no GA, we knew he wouldn't be returning to grad school. Third, as a GA you have to keep 9 hours per semester, unless you get special permission to take less. Last spring Napoleon dropped one of his classes mid-semester.

We were wrong. The first day of the semester I walked into the office I share with five other people, including Napoleon, and there he was, holding court with one of the newbies. I was there 15 minutes before I decided to interrupt and introduce myself to the newbie as I knew Napoleon wouldn't do it. Napoleon went right on with his pontification of something or another about what companies look for when doing this and that, yada, yada, yada. Anyone who has worked in the corporate world for six months could tell he was full of BS.

I finally had enough of his misplaced theories and whiney voice, so I left the office to grab some lunch. On the way, I called K, who has since graduated and is in another state. I left a voicemail, "You'll never believe it, but Napoleon is back -- they let him stay as a GA. Go figure. I hadn't seen or heard from him all summer (thank god), but within 10 minutes of being in the office with him, I was ready to punch him." Sometimes Napoleon just brings out those feeling in you.

Of course, little has changed with Napoleon. He is getting his assignments/professors switched for the spring semester, and he emailed everyone the changes before certain individuals were told themselves. And somehow over Thanksgiving, our office was left unlocked and he pretty much blamed everyone else.

I'm still not sure how Napoleon gets to stay in the department. Maybe it's because we need more GAs than we have applicants and Napoleon is better than nothing. Maybe it's because the university just won't fire anyone.

Whatever the reason, I don't have to hang a poster of Napoleon Dynamite in my office when I actually share an office with him. I think, however, I will hang this Dilbert comic in the office after the holiday break.

The waiting game

I check my email. It's not there. I go do something else, come back and check my email, it's not there. We run errands, I come back and check my email, it's not there. It's 5:15, grades were due to our department office at 5. I check my email and it's still not there. I review the email memo about turing in class grades; if we (meaning us teachers) don't have our grades in to the department by Wednesday at 5, then we have to personally take them to the registar's office by 9 a.m. Thursday. I wake up this morning and check again, it's still not there. I check several times this morning. It's 10 a.m. and I still haven't received it.

Of course, I'm talking about my grade for my Theories class. At one point, I had an A in the class, but when we got our focus group project back, I started worrying that my A wasn't a sure thing. We got a B on the project, which was 25% of the grade. Although the prof had the projects for almost two weeks, and there were only two groups to grade (and the papers were only about 10 pages long), she admitted that she didn't spend a lot of time grading the projects and probably should have spent more time on the front end explaining how to conduct focus groups. However, she didn't take either fact into account when grading grading the projects, so we got a B.

Now we are down to the final paper, which is another 25% of the grade. She has 10 papers, 15-20 pages in length, turned in Monday night. She thought she might have the grades Tuesday night, but Wednesday was more likely. She mentioned that grades were due 9 a.m. Thursday and she had until then to finish. This was news to me, as I thought they were due Wednesday, until I went back to read the memo. Either way, she said she would email us our final grade.

It seems like my grade in the class may come down to what I make on the paper. If I do well, I keep my 4.0. Unfortunately, I feel like the grading is fairly subjective, and it depends more on if you give her what she wants. Too bad that none of us knew what that was.

So I check my email and wait, and then check email again. Maybe if I check one more time, the email will arrive.

Come Monday, it's going to be alright

This morning I get off the bus that brings me from the stadium parking lot on to campus. I am listening to my iPod Shuffle and feeling fine. My final paper is done, minus some minor tweaking. I am heading up to my office so that a few of my students can review previous tests in preparation for their finals. The sun is shining and a lot of the pressure is off.

I think very few people realize how difficult this semester has been for me. It's been a lot of work, and thankfully, a lot of reward. I've questioned both my present and future and have second guessed a lot of my decisions. And worries have been hanging over my head so much so that I've been focusing on what's not happening versus what is happening. It hasn't been a pretty sight.

Still, the end of the semester is in sight. I turn in my final paper tonight, my students take their finals today and tomorrow and I turn in their grades tomorrow night. I can finally stop for a moment. Just then a new song plays, Jimmy Buffett's "Come Monday." I dig this song. "Come Monday, it's going to be alright..." Looking around, I take a deep breath, smile, and know it's true.

I am a Pod person

For a couple of months I have been giving my friend V a ride to/from school on Mondays. She's living in Round Rock now, near our house and it has been absolutely no bother. In fact, I enjoy the company on the long commute. V has been wanting to chip in for gas, but I haven't let her -- I mean I'm going down anyway and it would just be bad karma. I told her after we finish our Theories class, she could take me out of drinks. I thought we had a deal.

Evidently we didn't, as this week she gave me an iPod Shuffle. That was way more than she should have done, but it is cool. It would have not been anything I would have bought for myself, but already I'm getting enjoyment out of it, so that makes it the perfect gift. I spent one morning sifting through CDs and loading the right music on my shuffle. The shuffle is just the right size for working out (which is why V got it), so I loaded all my favorite 80s dance and rock music -- the stuff that just makes me want to get up and dance. As I'm listening I think of other songs I wish I had and am so tempted to buy a few more CDs or download the songs for $1 from the iTunes store. I may be a late adopter when it comes to iPods, but I am really digging being a Pod person.

Let me tell you a little secret

All semester I've been keeping a little secret that I want to let you in on -- I actually like my students and enjoy teaching.

Sshhh...don't tell anyone.

I feel like this is quite an anomaly in my department and the university. After watching Declining by Degrees in class last night, I realize teacher apathy towards students is more common than people want to admit. A professor, liking his or her students? It's time to throw them out of the academy. Be sure not to give them tenure, as they must not be doing enough research.

You think I'm joking, but I'm not. I'm not sure I'm even over exaggerating much. As a graduate student, and a non-traditional student, I am privy to more info than I want to be at times. I have had teachers complain about how students are lazy, unmotivated, etc., etc., etc. Of course, it's all the students' fault. There is no way a teacher could be to blame for unmotivated students.

I'm not saying that I don't have lazy students, and I'm not saying that many times I wish they would put in more effort. But I don't dwell on those students. I focus on the students who are there to learn and participate. I work really hard at preparing clear and interesting lectures. It may not always work; sometimes I fall flat, but given that I have never been given any training on how to teach (until the one grad-level class I'm taking this semester), I think I am doing an okay job.

At various times throughout the semester the students would crack me up. Our last lecture I was being a little bold and cheeky, the students really got it. And it's not just my students. Earlier in the semester I guest lectured in a different class taught by another TA, and those students, who didn't know me from Adam, were getting into the topic and asking a lot of questions. One student came up to me after and said that he wished he hadn't already taken Intro to PR because he would want to take it with me. That made me feel great.

It makes me feel good when my students feel like they can come to me for career advice; I will tell them like it is and they know it. Yesterday I was chatting with a girl in the locker room at the campus rec center and told her how she could incorporate her major and her interests into something that she would like to do. I had never met this girl before but we were talking and I asked her major and all of a sudden I've giving career advice. I'm working with some of my students on intern contacts and I had another student tell me that she got a special project at work because of something she learned in class. Students tell me that they can see how what I am telling them applies to their career goals; they know I am not full of shit and that I will deal with them in a straight-forward manner.

Of course there are days and there are students, but most of them are bright kids and want to succeed. At least that's been my experience. Most days I feel happy and successful when I walk out of the class. The last thing I am going to do is bitch and moan about my students.

But remember...don't tell anyone. We can't have it getting out that a teacher actually likes teaching snot-nosed, bratty, undergraduates. After all, undergraduates are the bane of the existence to a university.

Ice storm

Maybe about once every year or two we get an ice storm in central Texas. Generally it's not bad, but everyone freaks out. Then again, everyone freaks out and can't drive when there is rain, so it's not surprising with the ice thing. Yesterday was our ice storm.

First off, understand that we Texans think that temperatures in the mid 40s are arctic. Yesterday our highs were in the 20s. It was actually colder in Austin than it was in Anchorage, AK. Oftentimes the cold is enough to freak us out. Add just a hint that there might be snow or ice and the schools close down.

I woke up yesterday morning, looked outside and saw nothing on the street. Of course it could be the dreaded "black ice" that people worry about around here, but it looked fine. I go into the kitchen and make my famous tiramisu for the potluck we were having to celebrate the last night of Instructional Communication and I tune into the local news radio channel. Listeners start calling in about the ice. Now one must understand that there are still plenty of rural communities surrounding Austin and ice in the Hill Country must not be that pleasant. But the announcers continue to talk about various wrecks, urging folks to stay home, and people are freaking out.

I had told students that I would hold special office hours yesterday so they could review for the final. On a nice day, I would need to leave the house at 10:30 to make it to my office by noon. Today, I'm thinking it's 10 a.m. and then I'm thinking it's 9:30. The more I hear folks freaking out, the less inclined I am to drive. Often I refer to I-35, the main and pretty much only direct route from Pflugerville to San Marcos, as the "Death Highway." Even on a beautiful day with little traffic, my commute takes an hour. Add rain, construction or a wreck, expect delays to last hours, which just stresses me out. So I'm hearing these folks on the radio talking about this horrid traffic and ice, and knowing that the finals aren't until Monday and Tuesday, I inform my students that I'm rescheduling the office hours to Monday morning. Since ice on the road lasts no more than 3 hours, I figure the roads will by dry by Monday.

I'm actually glad I did this, from what I saw later in the afternoon when I had to drive down, after the radio said the roads were clear and it was safe to venture out. First, as expected, the only ice on the roads were the chunks falling off the vehicles. Still, people were idiots. Doug and I went to lunch at a local restaurant and as I was driving in the parking lot to leave, this guy approaches me in the wrong lane and just looks at me like I was in the wrong lane, and he would not move over. I had to actually pass him on the right to get around him.

Later, as I was driving I-35, traffic at times was stop-and-go, for no discernable reason. If there was an overpass, traffic would stop. At one point, this truck in front of me used the shoulder to pass the car in front of him. I'm still not sure what was up with that. People were driving like idiots; I can't imagine what it would have been like earlier in the morning when folks were freaking out.

At least it's over and now we don't have to worry about ice again for another two years. Still it's cold with temperatures below freezing. Never fear, by Sunday temperatures will be in the mid- to upper-60s, which is plenty cold enough for most of us.

Finalizing the finals

Last night I FINALLY finished the first draft of my take home final, which is due tomorrow. I still need to proof and polish it, but it's done. It only took me four days. Actually, it took me two days of writing and two days of wondering what the heck I was going to do and stressing over it and being ticked about a grade on a group project in that class. However, I'm feeling confident about it and now know I only need a 76 on it to get an A. Depending on how he grades it (i.e., is he looking for right and wrong, or is he looking at how we defended ourselves), this is a B paper, if not an A.

Now I just have a 15 page paper due for Monday. Pretty behind on that and don't like the feeling, but I think I can get it done. I hate to say this, but I don't know how much time the prof will get to spend on the grading. Everyone says she will spend some time and thought on it, and I agree, but the papers are due Monday night and grades are due Wednesday afternoon, and she will have 10, 15-20 page papers. It's been 10 days and she still hasn't graded our focus group projects, which were just two groups at 10 pages each.

By this time next week, classes will be done, grades will be in, and I will be on holiday.

Last day of the semester

Yesterday was the last day of the semester. As the final I am giving is optional -- students will either take it as a make up a missed test or to try to drop their lowest test scores -- I am realizing that I may not see some of my students again. At the very least, I will just see them passing in the halls. With my early morning schedule next semester, and that I only have one class and it's a 3 week, intensive Friday/Saturday course, chances are I will see very few people next semester, even my officemates.

Some of my students realized too that they won't see me again and that class was over. I'm sure a few were happy about that, but I did have a group that had to hug me as they completed their last test. It was very touching. They said I was their best teacher this semester. That makes me feel good because I want to be an effective teacher and I want students to learn about PR. A few of the students know how they want to focus their careers after this class, so I feel I've accomplished my goals.

I don't know if the students have realized how much they have meant to me or how much they have given me. I truly enjoy teaching and the interaction with the students. Yes, it's been difficult balancing teaching and my own studies, and yes, it has been a baptism by fire. Luckily, Dr. Mottet and my instructional comm class has really helped me know what I'm doing, and has helped me become a better teacher. Are there things I'll do different next semester? You bet. Will I be a better teacher? You bet.

I always say you don't want a professor their first or last semester of teaching. Still, for my first semester, I don't think I did that bad of a job. However, I think that a lot of that was due to my students and I appreciate their patience with me.