At work this morning I realized that all the managers, supervisors and otherwise responsible people were on vacation. So I turned to Flossie, my coworker and said, "Hey! We don't have any adult supervision today!" She said, "You're right" and I said, "well, except for me . . . I guess I'm an adult. I have a degree you know!" She just laughed and said, "You sure do!"

Of course my degree has absolutely nothing to do with my job. I made my "no adult supervision" comment in all earnestness since I am low man on the totem pole at work and I am much associated with my young coworker as we exude silliness about the place.

Today we were having a non-sensical conversation, basically ignoring the two other people sitting at the table with us. We discussed how tsunami was a pretty word, and if it didn't have such a horrible meaning we would name a daughter such a nice name. "This is my daughter Tsunami, and her twin Alluetta."

One of our table mates chimed in to say how tragic the tsunami was, and why did it have a "t" at the beginning? Well, we just didn't know, perhaps only because it is foreign, but there are plenty of English words with the same affliction! Knife, knee, knight (kanigit) not only that but pneumonia, psychology, how about comb and bomb (which I'm sure are supposed to rhyme, but they do not!)

Another person joined us and said, "what are you talking about?" and I said, "bombs!" (with the second b pronounced) He said, "oh." Flossie explained about the unpronounced letters. (I was content to leave him wondering if I was retarded, apparently she was a little more concerned for my dignity.)

He said, "well, I thought you'd be talking about sciency things, usually that's what people talk about here."

You see that was his mistake, taking us for scientists . . . We are just there for the love and attention, and the weekly pay check.

By that time the others had tired of our nonsense and moved on.

We moved on to discuss our British names recalling that mine was Cynthia Castlebottom. I declared that the spelling should henceforth be Tsythiab Castlebottom.

And Flossie said, you know when you watch a sitcom and you think, "nobody really has conversations like that!" We have those kinds of conversations all the time.

I said, "yes, I know." with a lateral lisp.

Everyday when I drive to work I pass Mac Author Blvd, and lately when I see I've been thinking about a song that always intrigued me a kid. "Mac Author's Park"

The words are (If I remember correctly) "Mac Author's Park is melting in the dark, all the sweet green icing flowing down. Someone left the cake out in the rain. I don't think that I can take it, 'cause it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again!"

The only real way to know what that means would be to ask the writer, but in my mind it always meant- here is the end of a relationship, which was very good, but became neglected and the singer fears he will not have a relationship as good as that one again.

What a strange metaphor. Honestly, who would leave a cake out in the rain?! If there is cake and there is rain, the cake is coming with me to a dry spot. I would never forget a cake. A loaf of bread, maybe, but not a cake, especially a cake with green frosting. I mean, you don't come across a green frosted cake every day. Well, it's just a thought

I dreamed I was cutting out my ingrown toenail, and when I finally got it trimmed back so that it wouldn't hurt me, I pulled the toe nail back to see what was behind it and there were balls of yarn, papers and toys under there. I started to pull them out, but it was like an endless cavern!

I don't know what that means.

I also dreamed that I was cleaning someone's house and I noticed that the walls and blinds were especially dirty. I started scrubbing them down and the dirt was coming off easily. But they stopped me from cleaning because they said the paint would come off and the dyes in the curtains and blinds would run. I thought to myself in my dream that it would be better to have faded, clean walls and blinds than to have dirty ones, or they should just buy new if they were so worried about the colors.

I don't know what that means either.

I used to receive the Dallas Morning News. It got to the point where I never took them out of the the plastic bags and just threw them in the closet. I pulled the September 4 edition out yesterday to use it for wrapping paper, and I thouhg I'd read the funnies first. I found this.

Aside from Arafat's recent passing, this comic intrests me on several levels. First it is making a very non-pc statement about cultural norms in the Middle East, second, it is a pig making those comments . . . which makes an Islamic world leader cry --irony, yes?

My semester was going well until just a few weeks ago when my professor turned into an evil menace. I handed in a 10 page research paper on reform of western based ESL curriculums and materials to be used in the Middle East and other Muslim contexts.
His comment was that it was "An Excellent paper, but some sloppy academic writing" and gave me a B. Then he crossed out the B and gave me a C. My paper went from an A to a C! I was a bit concerned about the change since that paper was 30% of my grade, and C is as good as failing in grad school.

So I looked at the paper and he was right. I had forgotten one of my citations. I forgot one citation! I went to him and explained that I had simply forgotten it. It was a list and I had wondered if the citation needed to go at the beginning or the end or if it needed to be interspersed through out the list, then I suppose I got distracted and forgot. I made a mistake!

(Dear Jesus,
I made a mistake. I forgot a citation. Can I still come to heaven when I'm done here? Do you have enough blood to cover this one?)

I told my prof I thought two letter grades for a mistake was a bit harsh. He said, "oh that wasn't the only place." It wasn't huh? No, he pointed out a cited paraphrase he didn't like. He also pointed out a few other phrases and words he thought were questionable.

He pointed out my use of the phrases global culture, public property, Islamic Revolution and Islamic clergy.

If I understand the rules of plagerism correctly one needs only put quotes around words and phrases within a summerized text setting, (ie, I summerized and cited a section of an article) if the word or phrase in question is particular to the author. If for example this author coined the pharse global culture I would write it as "global culture" not just global culture.

As far as I'm concerned, however, the phrase global culture is public property! Anyone who reads or speakes about the world in a general context uses and is intimatly aquainted with the phrase global culture! It's not new!
And Islamic Revolution! That is the name of a historical event! How can I use other words for it? My sentance: "In 1978-1979 Ayatollah Knomeini led the Islamic Revolution in Iran, which toppled the Pahlavi dynasty and replaced it with Islamic rule."

Perhaps I should have written "In 1978-1979 "Ayatollah" Knomeini supposedly led the so called "Islamic Revolution." I don't believe it really happened, because after all, Iran isn't a real country and Islam isn't a real religion."

How would this sentance be interpreted: In 1775 Paul Revere rode to warn colonists of the begining of the "American Revolution." The quotation marks indicate to readers that either a. it wasn't a real event or b. this is just the title that some people call it, while others do not accept this title. Everyone calls it the American Revolution, just as everyone calls what happened in Iran in 1979 the Islamic Revolution.

I can't really protest the grade because I did forget the one citation, and it is up to the teacher's disgression as to how to deal with issues of "academic dishonesty."

However, I did tell him I disagreed with his assessment, that I wasn't a cheater. On his final he was nervy enough to ask "Why do you think your proffessor has such strong feelings regarding the issue of plagerism concerning the writings of graduate students and TESOL professionals?" for extra credit.

I wrote something along the lines of the importance of academic honesty so that one may be an example of excellence for fellow students, future students and for future-fellow professionals. Then I put "And so your professor doesn't take two letter grades off a paper worth 30% of your grade which could potentially cause you to have to take the class again as a result of a MISTAKE." I thought about adding something about the Islamic Revolution, but I didn't since I'd already written him another nasty little note in one of the "short answer" blanks of the test concerning the appropriateness of the question in light of the focus of the class and his comments on what and how to study for his final.

I'll probably have to take that class again. This degree is getting longer and longer.

So, I'm driving this Mercedes. I'm sure it was a really extraordinary car 25 years ago, but now it's just scary. The power steering fluid leaks, the oil leaks, the radio doesn't work, the interior lights are practically non-existent, I can't turn the heater off and I can't roll the windows down. The driver's side door won't lock and the other doors won't unlock. The sun roof works. The power seats work. The check break light never goes off and the turning signals blink when they want to.

My car is in the shop with as of yet unknown problems. Most importantly among these problems is that it won't start. I hope to find out what my course of action will be by Monday.

So, I think my most powerful planets are in retrograde or something . . . that was my excuse last time a “series of unfortunate events” happened to me. Let me tell you, Lemony Snicket or whatever her name is, don’t got that market cornered.

I suppose I’ll have to read the book to find out her gig, but I have a lot of complaining to do. Of course there is no time for it all now. I was diligently watching TV and knitting tonight. I finished my hat (oh-so-woefully-incorrectly-but-done) and my matching legwarmers got their final touch. Now, I shall begin work on the matching scarf and things will be well in my world. At least that is the theory.

I propose this theory to myself every day. Thus far I have been wrong (for at least the past two weeks) but I’m an optimist.

Today I was late for work. I had to stop by Auto Zone to get some power steering fluid. I am currently driving a friend’s car and while driving along yesterday it suddenly became nearly impossible to turn the wheel. I all but gave myself internal injuries trying to go around the block, because the needed U-turn was out of the question. It was 7 something AM, and I walked into Auto Zone and said, “I need steering fluid.”
The guy looked at me and cocked his head as if to say, “uh-oh crazy woman”
So I corrected myself by saying, “I need steering fluid,” and making pantomiming driving actions.
With rising intonation he said, “Steering fluid?”
I said, “Yes. I need (mental note, I know I’m missing a word here) steering fluid.”
He said, (as he suppressed a giggle) “You mean power steering fluid?”
And I said, “Yes Jack Ass POWER steering fluid! It’s freaking 7:00AM, get off my back! How often do you think I buy this crap?!”
No, I didn’t say that at all.
I said. “Yeah, that.”

As we approached the counter I realized that I had no idea where to put this power steering fluid. So I asked the guy if he would help me.
He said, “sure.”
When we got outside he said, “pop the hood.”
I said, “I don’t know how.”
Now, I am all about the “I’m just a girl, and this is a car!” routine, but my interactions up to that point with this guy were over the top even for me. Honestly though, I had no idea how to pop the hood. What made me feel better was that he didn’t know how to either. The manager of the store had to come out and find the well hidden lever.

So the guy puts the stuff in and it was like a freaking miracle fluid! Suddenly I could turn and have no worries of a hernia.

I got to work late and nobody was around. Eventually, I figured out there was a mandatory meeting. I ran up to it, got there just in time to win a prize and sign the attendance sheet. I got back to my desk and spilled an entire cup of hot tea all over my lap. From my hips to my knees—spiced tea with cream and sugar. (I just knew it was going to be really yummy too! Drat!)
Ironically the meeting I missed was concerning “spill clean up.” So . . . I had to go to Wal-Mart to buy new pants to wear the rest of the day.

Perhaps tomorrow I will chronicle why I was not driving my car and the other “personality quirks” of the car I’m currently driving.