Job hunting

In less than a month I will be done with teaching. I won't graduate, as my thesis isn't finished, but I will be available to go back to work. As such, I have started job hunting, posting my resume at various internet job sites (i.e. Monster, Career Builder, Hot Jobs), and have applied for a few positions.

It's been more than two years since I've seriously job hunted and I have forgotten what a humiliating and frustrating process it is. For example, this morning I was on my computer and received an email entitled "Agency Position." I got excited and wondered which PR agency it was. I opened the email to see that it was some mass marketing template to work for an insurance company -- you know, become an agent and have your own agency franchise.

I took a few minutes to visit the various job sites to renew my resume. One trick is to renew/refresh your resume at least weekly, to keep it at the top of the pile. While doing this, I was able to see how many folks have clicked on my resume -- not good. In two weeks my resume on Monster has only been viewed three times.

Occasionally I receive a call or email saying someone has viewed my resume and thinks I will be a perfect fit for a job in their company. What is the job? Sales. I'm not sure where on my resume it says that I have done sales. I have done marketing, I have done PR. I give great account service and I can get on the phone and pitch a reporter, but please, don't have me cold call some schlocky product. That is not me. I don't enjoy sales. I want to do communications, that is what I enjoy.

Now, a few people have asked me why don't I stay teaching. As of right now, that's not an option and not the direction I want to go. Ideally, I would like to work full time in the field and then teach a class or two at night. I have discussed the possibility with various folks about being an adjunct, and get told they are keeping me in mind. The issue is that right now there are no evening PR classes scheduled (mainly because no one has ever wanted to teach at night), and that we are hiring a new director for the school of journalism and mass communications. No one wants to make any decisions until the new director comes on board. Of course, that will be late summer, assuming that one of the current candidates gets the job.

I know that most likely my job will not come from want ads, and I am starting to work my network. Still, it's frustrating and a slow process and not one I enjoy. Every unanswered resume submission, every interview where you aren't hired, you wonder what it is about you, where you went wrong, why you aren't worthy. You ask people you've known for years if they know of any job openings in the field and the answer is no.

However trying the process is, it's still what one has to go through in job hunting. Maybe the difficulty is what will make the job worth it.

Blah!

I am feeling so gross today. Occasionally with my allergies I get this inner ear thing going on when I sleep. When I turn over to a particular side, I get vertigo and the bed spins. It's not really that fun to wake up and the bed is spinning, especially when you haven't even been drinking.

I had another episode of the bed spins this morning. I love waking up feeling nauseous. That, and I woke up early and couldn't fall back asleep. So I go to bed at 10:30 and wake up at 4, which is really like 3 with daylight savings. In the mean time, my head is pounding, my tummy is queasy, my ear hurts and my eyes are itchy. I couldn't even get Allegra to cuddle with me this morning. I am a total mess.

It's a good thing I'm not actually lecturing today. I have guest speakers. I will moderate, though, as we are doing a panel discussion.

I wonder if anyone would notice if I fell asleep at my desk. No, I can't do that. If I put my head down, I think I'll throw up. I'm feeling like being mean today and taking roll as a pop quiz. I know Monday after time change I'll be lucky to have 20 out of 50 students in an 8 a.m. class. If I have to be here, they should be too. :-)

Taking his life in his own paws

Lately Dexter has found a new place to nap--the dogs' bed. For a kitty who runs everytime he sees one of the dogs, he sure is living life dangerously.

My new toy

Most women dream of diamonds and jewelry. They spend months looking for the perfect pair of shoes. Their idea gift is a mink. Not me. For the longest time I wanted a bug zapper.

My obsession started last year when my favorite morning radio show was playing with these zappers on air. The various cast members spent the morning trying to electrocute each other. Given that I can't stand having bugs in the house, the zapper sounded cool.

Then I went to my my friend Karen's farm. She had several varieties and showed me how they worked. You simply hold down the button and swat a bug. ZAPP!! The bug is fried. How cool!

There were several times this last year when I wanted one. Like when a couple of big mosquitoes flew in the house. I couldn't find our regular swatter and eventually had to sic the dogs on the bugs. Then came beer nights. The guys regularly sit in the kitchen with the backdoor open. I understand their need for a breeze, but there isn't a screen on the door and the house would fill with flies. It would drive me crazy!

A few weeks ago Doug and I went to a home and garden show, looking for ideas for our backyard. I saw it from a distance and knew I had to have it -- The Executioner. The best in electronic bug zappers. I could hardly contain myself. Doug decided to indulge me by buying one.

It has been great. I've been able to perform shock and awe on everything from the smallest gnat to the largest mosquito. Picking up the racquet, I know I have the power of life and death in my hands. The first POP of The Executioner sends the dogs running outside. They know better than to get in my path.

Not all zappers are made the same. We were at a friend's the weekend and her zapper was definitely low power. It didn't hurt when you touched it and could barely kill a fly. The Executioner, on the other hand, leaves welts on human skin. Leave to Doug to test it out.

The Executioner has been the best entertainment that $15 could buy. Forget the diamonds, buy me a bug zapper!

Bad blogger!

I know that I've been a bad blogger lately. Evidently the lack of regular postings has both my mom and Doug's mom worried if we are still alive. We are, but it's spring in Austin. This is the best time of the year here, and one of the busiest. We are spending our free time doing outdoor things and attending festivals and such. In addition, my students and school are keeping me busy. Still, I have a lot of things to write about, so I will try to catch everyone up.

Happy anniversary, bloggy!

Today is the one year anniversary of our blog. I'm not sure how we are going to celebrate -- buy a gift, a romantic dinner, ... ? :-)

Maybe it will be that Doug will post an entry. After all, it was his infrequent Austin Update emails to his family that started it all.

If you have a chance, go to the March 2005 archives and read some of our first entries.

Mommy’s little helper

During the past week we've been working on our backyard. Because our big tree split last summer, one of the things we've been doing is adding feeders to encourage wildlife. We have added a martin house, a squirrel feeder (which so far has only attracted birds), and replaced our broken humming bird feeder (haven't seen any humming birds yet). The other thing I've done is started a container herb garden. One rosemary plant costs $1.50, while a packet of fresh rosemary at the grocery store is $2.99. Obviously, it is more cost effective to grow our own, and adds a little color to our patio, so I planted rosemary, thyme, basil, parsley and cilantro.

Every step of the way in our backyard improvement, Allegra has been there to help us out. When Doug was digging the hole to install the pole for the martin house, she was next to him, digging an alternate hole in case the first one didn't work. When we were pouring cement to install the pole, she was there supervising. When I was standing on the chair hanging the squirrel feeder, she was right there making sure I didn't fall. Even when I was planting my herbs, she was checking out the potting soil, making sure I had the right kind. After she inspected the potting soil, and made sure the herbs were up to her standards, Allegra showed her approval by lying down next to one of the herb containers and rolling on her back.



BTW, if you are wondering where Dante is during the backyard improvements, he is usually in another part of the yard, lying in the sun, working on his tan. If there is work to be done, rest assured that Dante won't be doing it. As you can tell from his expression and demeanor (notice the crossed paws), Dante thinks too highly of himself to actually submit to manual labor.

Our first tenant

As I posted last week, we decided to start a purple martin colony. On Sunday Doug spent the afternoon constructing the house. An hour after he had it up, I saw I bird roosting on the top of the house. I didn't get a good look, so I wasn't sure if it was a martin or not. Yesterday morning I saw what I knew was a martin. I was able to get near the house and I saw that he was checking out one of the compartments, but then flew off. In the evening I waited for him to return so I could get a photo, but no luck.

He was back this morning and I was able to get a shot before he flew off. I can't wait until the rest of the birds arrive.

In her shoes

Saturday night Doug and I were volunteering at the Zachary Scott Theatre, for the opening night of Bad Dates, a play about single life in Manhattan. We arrive an hour before the show to stuff programs, receive our assignments and assist the patrons before the show. C is the house manager tonight, and when it’s time she gathers the volunteers to brief us about the show.

“...so-and-so will work the bar, Dara and Doug, you need to work the back door, and L, you are on shoe duty.”

Shoe duty? We had no idea what C was talking about. “You didn’t hear about Thursday night?” C asked. We shook our heads no. “We have more than $6,000 worth of shoes on loan from Neiman Marcus Last Call as props. During intermission on Thursday’s preview, we had a patron go onstage and start trying on the shoes. I had to go in there and ask her to stop.” We were all shocked to hear the story, and chalked it up to one crazy woman.

C took us in the theater to see the set. Bad Dates is playing on the Arena stage, which is a theater in the round. The theater sits less than 150 people, and there are only three rows of seats. The stage is ground level. At times you feel like you can reach out and touch the actors. At the very least, you can touch the props near the edge of the stage.

The set for Bad Dates seems more touchable than most. It is supposed to be the bedroom of the character’s Manhattan apartment and looks to be something straight out of a Pottery Barn showroom; and you have to resist the urge to pick up one of the designer pillows or flip through the picture books on the nightstand. In the midst of all this, two dozen shoes are scattered around the set. Although I am one of those rare females without a shoe fetish and only have a minimal number of shoes in my closet, I was in awe of the array of shoes on the set. “Ooh, I could see myself in those boots,” I told Doug as I pointed to a pair of leather boots with a cow skin design. Never mind that the heels are about two inches too high for me to walk on comfortably and they don’t go with any of the clothes in my closet. “Don’t touch!” Doug hisses at me as I start to walk towards them. I resist the temptation, turning around and walking out of the theatre, watching the doors until it’s time to seat the patrons.

During the intermission, L and another woman guard the shoes. All is well. After the show is another story. Because it’s opening night, there is a party in the lobby – champagne, hors d’oeuvres and an open bar. Part of the volunteer responsibilities for opening night is to help set up and work the party. As the other volunteers started handing out champagne, Doug and I slipped into the theatre to clean up the empty wine cups and beer bottles left by the patrons. As I’m picking up the trash on the top row, I look down to the stage where Doug has my boots in his hand. “Doug!” I yell. I had just learned those boots cost $650 as close-out – I didn’t want to think what they were at full retail.

Evidently as the show ended, several patrons went down to the stage and started pick up the shoes. The boots were the third pair Doug had to take out of someone’s hands. In the five years we’ve been volunteering at the Zach, Doug and I thought we’d seen it all – from patrons taking hairbrushes and other props off the Shear Madness set, to a lady knitting on the front row of Santaland Diaries. The Santaland incident was the same performance where one lady left in the middle of the performance, stopping first to chastise Martin Burke for his character saying such mean things about children with handicaps. Is there any wonder why Martin has taken a break from the show? But I digress.

We were stunned by the folks who thought that the theatre was a place for their own personal shopping. I’m all for bringing the theatre to the masses, but when you start trying on the shoes of the character, you have gone a bit too far. If you loved the show, tell your friends. If you loved the shoes, go the Last Call.

Note: Because it was opening night we did not see the show. The theatre was full and we had to set up for the party during the second act. While we cannot comment personally on the show, we did hear good buzz about it during the party. We’ll comment on the show when we go back to watch it.

Regional differences

Sometimes it’s interesting to notice the various regional differences when it comes to food. One of the big things we noticed when we were in Rhode Island a couple of weeks ago was the propensity of Dunkin’ Donuts. There seemed to be one on every street corner. Doug and I made a car game out of spotting the various Dunkin’ Donut shops – the first person to spot a Dunkin’ Donuts punched the other person in the arm (our variation of Slug Bug). Needless to say we both ended the weekend with bruises up and down our arms. In the five days I was there, and the 12 days Doug was there, we managed to go to Dunkin’ Donuts only once, and that’s because I had to go to the bathroom and it was one of the few places that had public restrooms.

Austin, on the other hand, is not a big donut place. There are maybe two Dunkin’ Donuts in the entire town, three Krispy Kremes, and of course, Round Rock Donuts. If you bring donuts to the office, it usually takes until late-afternoon before they are all gone. I’ve even seen poor college students pass up free food if it was donuts. However, breakfast tacos are a popular breakfast in Austin. It’s always a treat when breakfast tacos are brought into the office – you know it’s going to be a good day.

After two weeks of workshops in Rhode Island, Doug’s company is holding a workshop in Austin this week, with several of the participants flying in from Rhode Island. Being big on the Dunkin’ Donuts, one of the guys said that he was excited to find a Dunkin’ Donuts in Austin. Yesterday Doug was in charge of getting breakfast for the workshop. Thinking that he would do something Texan, he brought three dozen breakfast tacos from Taco Shack, a perennial favorite in the Austin Chronicle readers’ poll.

Given the reactions of folks, you would have thought that Doug served them dog food. The New Englanders couldn’t believe that Texans would eat tacos for breakfast. The tacos were not a hit and there were still a couple dozen left by mid-morning. Doug wisely set out the remaining tacos for the rest of the staff and they were eaten within 10 minutes.

Go figure. I guess for the folks from Rhode Island, deep-fried sugar is okay for breakfast, but eggs and bacon wrapped in a tortilla is not.

Tech support frustration

Anyone who has ever had to deal with computer tech support can relate.

Problem child

A student walked into my office yesterday morning. “I need to talk to you about the PR project.”

“Twenty-five minutes before it’s due?” I brace myself for some excuse as to why it wasn’t done after three weeks.

“Actually, it’s about my group, one of our members didn’t bother ever showing up to group meetings and didn’t contribute to the plan.” I take a deep breath. I’m hearing this a lot this semester. I ask what group the student is in and I look at my list.

“Was it K?” I ask. K had emailed me Friday, saying she only knew the name of one of her team members and couldn’t find his email address. K wanted me to give her the names of her other group members. This is, there is a Web site for the class and all the information she needs is on there.

“No, it wasn’t K. She has been helping out and was even there last night when we were finishing the plan. It was L.”

I sigh. I thought that L would have learned something from last semester. Instead, my Problem Child is at it again.

Rewind to last semester. L was in one of my classes. She missed the first test – never a good sign. Then it comes time for the PR Project. Remembering the disaster of a group project when I was in college – this girl and I did all the work and two other guys totally flaked – I had the students pick the members of their group. After the students picked, I received this email from L. She was new to the school and didn’t know anyone in class and had missed several classes because of various issues, and didn’t have a group and what should she do??? The next time the class met, I asked people to raise their hand if they didn’t have a group. No one did. L wasn’t there.

I the following month I must have received 20 emails from her. This is when I started referring to her as my Problem Child. She never did find a group, so she had to do the plan on her own. She didn’t want to present, which was 10% of the project grade. She continued to ask questions about the plan, which she would have known the answers to if she had attended class. She was almost like a gnat that wouldn’t go away. We got through the projects, and she continued to show up only sporadically for class. The semester ends and I think I am done with her. Knowing that you have to have at least one, I wonder who will be my problem child this semester.

Turns out, it is L. She emails me at the beginning of the semester saying she is retaking my class because she knows she can make a better grade. “Oh great!” I think as I read her email. Yet she starts the semester by showing up to class. “Maybe she is getting serious,” I think. Yet I notice that she spends more time examining her split ends than taking notes. I chalk it up to having heard some of this stuff before. She’s not emailing me like before, yet when it does, they are from left field – what did I know about the school health fair that she needs to attend for one of her other classes? I teach PR – I know nothing about these health fairs, why is she emailing me? She made it to the first test, but I would have thought she could have done better with just a little effort. But after that, she started attending class less frequently.

I look at the student standing in front of me. I can’t tell him that L is my problem child and I had thought she was changing but hadn’t. I know what he’s feeling – he and the other team members put in time and effort and don’t want someone getting a free ride off of them. It’s not fair, yet I didn’t want to let him know that this happens in the real world as well.

I take a moment to describe my evaluation system and how I use team evaluations to determine the individual grades of each group member. I tell them that the evals are totally confidential. I explain to him that he and his team members need to provide an honest evaluation and if they don’t, I can’t lower the grade. I gave the example of last semester when a group didn’t mark down their other members and everyone got an A when only a few deserved it.

The student thanks me and is on his way. I sit there for a moment and let out a deep breath. The project is worth 20% of the students’ grade this semester. If a student does not participate at all in the project and gets a 0, the best they can hope for will be a C in the class. There are more of those students than I would like to admit this semester. But what can you do? I think a minute about my problem child and wonder what is going on with her. I can’t spend too much time dwelling on it. I have a class of students waiting downstairs for me, wanting to turn in their projects. I can only help the students who want to help themselves.

Update: Within an hour of posting this entry, I received an email from my problem child. She said that she has been trying to reach her group for two weeks and no one is responding to her. She said that she did contribute to the plan (her group members said she sent two sentences which were unusable), but that they were presenting tomorrow and didn't know what to do. She wanted me to help.

Going batty about birds

Ever since Doug & I moved into this house, we've talked about installing a purple martin house in our backyard and starting a colony. Usually it's been one thing or another and we don't get a house up in enough time.

Last week we saw it -- our window of opportunity. The scouts had started to arrive. Our neighbors have a couple of martin houses and usually what happens is that one or two birds will arrive before the rest of the colony. You have to have the house up for the scouts, or the colony won't nest there that year. Martins are great because they eat all the bugs around and they have a pretty singing voice. However, sparrows and starlings have taken over all of their natural habitats (and will take over the houses too, if allowed). The martin population is only one-tenth of what it was in the 1920s and the only houses they have now are the ones provided and maintained by humans.

Doug and I spent this weekend searching for a martin house. We must have gone to a half dozen places and couldn't find any and no one knew where we could go to find one. One place told us it was too early for the houses, but we told him that we saw the scouts. We did find a few houses where we get our dog food, but the houses were plastic and didn't look durable. I looked online and found one local place, but it was way too expensive.

Last night we tried one last place -- Wild Birds Unlimited. Not only did we find a martin house we liked, the owner gave us a lot of advice.

When we were at the store, we noticed they had bat houses. Austin is big on bats, as we have the largest urban bat colony in North America. Bats are also good for insects. Doug and I had been talking about getting a bat house and I had been reading on the bat conservation site about building one, so we bought one. We are going install it on our chimney, facing the backyard. Now folks will be able to pack a picnic and come watch the bats at our house instead of heading down to the Congress Avenue bridge.

One thing is for certain, between the martins and the bats, insects won't be a problem at our house.

Cake love

There are two things you must understand. First, my friend Cindy is an awesome baker. Her creations are usually too pretty to eat but too yummy not to. Cindy is gaining the reputation as one of the best bakers in Austin. Her company, Pretty Dishes, creates some of the best, and most unique desserts, in Central Texas.

Second, I have become fascinated with the baking contests on Food Network. Whether it's the Halloween cake competition, the birthday cake competition, or the Elvis cake competition, I watch in awe as the competitors create cake sculptures that can only be described as works of art.

Thursday night we had a girlfriends happy hour at Paggi House. The food was excellent, their special mojito was awesome, the deck and the view of the putting green and the Austin skyline was great, and of course, the conversation was lively. Earlier, Gigi and I were wondering about Cindy, as neither of us had heard from her in awhile. Just as we thought we were winding down, Cindy shows up, with a box. It was a belated birthday present for me (don't you just love celebrating your birthday for an entire week!).

I have to say, this was one of the most special birthday presents I have ever received. She baked a cake for me that could be in one of those competitions I love to watch. See the photo below. The flowers and the pot are fondant, making the creation 100% edible. The cake is chocolate with raspberry layers -- my two favorite flavor mixtures.

At the table you could just smell the flavors of the cake and I was anxious to dig in. Cindy and Gigi convinced me they didn't want any and that I should save it for Friday night and Doug's return from his business trip. Since he also is fascinated with the cake competitions, this was probably a good idea. I had to wrap the cake back up just so I couldn't smell it and be tempted.

Doug was amazed when he saw the cake. For as pretty as it was, it was just as delicious.

Just tired

"You look really good," my friend Tammy said as I met her for dinner tonight. "But tired; very tired. Did you get some sleep?"

I mumble incoherently. I appreciate Tammy taking me to dinner tonight, but I'm afraid I'm not very good company. I am dead exhausted.

My plane out of Newark was delayed two hours last night, not because of anything in Newark. The flight was coming in from Columbus, to Newark and then to Austin and there were weather issues in Columbus. It was almost midnight when the plane landed in Austin. Of course, I couldn't fall asleep on the flight. It was after 1 when I got to bed, and had to get up at 5 to get ready and leave for school.

When I got home last night, it looked like a tornado had gone through the living room. I guess it was hurricane Allegra. Cushions were off the couch and terrible twosome had found a notebook and some paperwork from school and scattered them on the floor of the dining room. Evidently they decided to read one of Doug's brewing books as well. Additionally, it has been raining here for the last week and there is mud and dirt all over the floor. I think the governor could declare this an emergency area. I pick the stuff up off the floor and go to bed, trying not to step on too many clumps of mud.

After four hours of sleep, I get up and get ready for the day. Luckily, I have a guest speaker today, making it easier because I don't have to lecture. I'm not sure that I would made much sense today. I'm done by noon, so I come head home and crawl back into bed. At this point, the only time I've spent at home is asleep, or getting ready for bed or getting up from bed. The dogs must still be feeling anxious about me being gone as they got into things this morning while I was at school. Another pile of paperwork to pick up before the nap.

I sleep for a couple of hours then get up and start the processes of checking mail, voice mail and email. What have I missed while I was in New England? I know that really it had only been 5 days that I was gone, but given the intensity of my class before the trip, it feels like I've been gone weeks. I make a list of errands I need to do, but I put that off until tomorrow. I have slept only 6 out of the last 36 hours and still feel in a fog. I unpack my suitcase and gather my dry cleaning, dropping it off before I meet Tammy.

Dinner with Tammy was good; we hadn't seen each other since the holidays and needed to catch up. I really wanted to stay and chat for hours, but she could tell I was just tired and made up an excuse of why she had to leave.

As much as I enjoy being home, I always find re-entry into the real world difficult. When you travel, you don't have to be on schedules and timelines. You get to see and do new and different things. When you get home, reality strikes and there are bills and jobs and chores. Like an astronaut coming back from a deep space mission, you need a period of decompression to adjust from traveling mode to real life mode. At 21 I could go days with just four hours sleep. At 36, it's much more difficult. Fortunately, no school, no teaching, no nothing on Tuesdays, so tomorrow I will be able to crawl into my decompression chamber. Until then, I'm just tired.

Heading home

Note: This entry was written at the Newark airport on Sunday, but wasn't posted until Monday.

No additional snow last night, but the temperature this morning was around 22 degrees. Doug and I decided to try to go seal hunting -- not to club them, but to shoot them with the camera. Funny thing is, other than a seal-watching cruise, we could find little information regarding where to see the seals. We asked a few locals, but they had no idea.



We headed out based on info we found on the internet. We found a place that seemed like it, and asked a lady we saw in the parking lot. She told us this was indeed the place, so we headed down the path. It was cold! The thing was, she was adamant about us following a certain path, which we did. When we finally got to the shore, there were no seals. There was a father and son who told us that the seals were several miles up shore. Freezing, and not wanting to hike that much further there and all the way back, the guy told us how to drive there. We hiked back to the car and figured all total we had done 3-4 miles in 20 degree weather and no seals. We tried to find the place he told us, but couldn't follow his directions. We stopped at a gas station and were directed back to the place we originally were. We actually didn't find this surprising, as we have yet to have good directions in Rhode Island. Even the maps and street signs seem dyslexic. At this point, we gave up our quest.

Instead, we headed up Rt. 102 which was supposed to be one of the prettiest drives in Rhode Island. It was and we could only imagine what the views would have been like in the fall. Along the way we stopped at the one of the oldest general stores in the U.S. It has been continuously operated since 1810.



After this, we decided it was time to head back towards the hotel, get a bite of lunch, and head to the airport. My flight was supposed to be at 4:23 and Doug dropped me off at 3 p.m. However, when I went to check in, they said the flight was getting ready to leave. Evidently, the earlier flight had been delayed and was getting ready to leave. They were putting me on this one, as my flight was supposed to be delayed as well. The only way to catch my connecting flight was to sprint down the concourse to the earlier (delayed) flight. I made it, being the last person on the plane, and got to Newark an hour ahead of schedule. No big deal, I thought. At least I wouldn’t be any later into Austin.

I’m slightly wrong with that. Thus far, the Austin flight is a half hour late, not leaving until almost 8, arriving after 11. That means arriving home at midnight, and still getting up at 5 for school. Oh well. I have a guest speaker tomorrow, so it doesn’t really matter if I can make a coherent sentence or not.

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.