Chickeny Goodness

everything that can go wrong....

2008-08-29T16:58:00.002+01:00

didn't.

The technology had a little bit of a learning curve and I didn't realise that I'd be covering that much material all on the first day, but I didn't run out of time and I was able to avoid the embarassment of people walking out on me.

I'm hoping that the next class will go more smoothly. At least I didn't throw up.

I just got Teddy Grahams in my eye

2008-08-29T13:52:00.002+01:00

It occurs to me that, while I've written a lot about this week, I haven't touched on my classes (aside from the TA thing) or talked about my nifty officemate and The Great Office Excavation, in which we found artifacts from previous office occupants.

Providing that I manage to keep my crap together during the two sections I'm teaching today, I will post more on the above subjects. And then wrap up a website. And make a choice with regard to logo designs and an offer that has just come through.

It's funny.....again I put it out into the universe that I needed things to be steady with regard to income now that I am very part-time and opportunities present themselves. No one can tell me that we aren't watched over.

Qu-easy!

2008-08-29T12:46:00.003+01:00

I woke this morning with the beginnings of a sick headache. Not sick in the contemporary sense ("That game's totally sick! I want to play!") but rather the good, old-fashioned sense of "I will vomit on you without warning."

I introduce myself to my students in a little less than two hours. I suppose that, if I can do this with my head on fire and my stomach rebelling, I can do it any old time.

Maybe someone in the group will start sniffing the armpit of their sweater as happened to a friend on her first day as a TA.

It's equally possible that everything will go just fine. I've got most of the prep work already done and I'm clear on what I want to cover in class today. However, my stomach really doesn't seem aware of that. It does not care.

Michael has just reminded me of something completely unrelated to AAAGHHH! TEACHING!!!. When The Kat came home from school on her first day, she hugged me and said "It's so good to know that he'll always be there for us."

I was a little confused. "Who?"

"The crossing guard, Soup."

I choked. "You mean Stu?"

"Yes!"

So it's good to know that Soup will always be there.

A little Ally McBeal

2008-08-28T17:16:00.002+01:00

I don't know if they chose to install this feature at our end of the building because, apparently, the department is all about the abolition of labels and stereotypes, but the nearest restroom to our main door is unisex. I've never had to deal with it and I'm not sure that I'm entirely comfortable with the idea. Of course, there are also times when needs must and so I've tried to nod perfunctorily and keep eye contact to a minimum if I run into a man in there and, if it's empty, I rejoice a little in the silence. I have yet to run into a woman. Also, I'm not sure where the other restrooms are, so that also cuts down on my options.

Welcome to grad school, I suppose. Shed those preconceived notions!

-or not, when all I really want to do is use the restroom in peace.

The Electric Quilt Company

2008-08-27T13:00:00.002+01:00

There's a sign just down the road, on the other side of the railroad tracks, that reads thus. I'm curious about it, but not as much as I could be in light of all of the other curiosities going on at the moment.

The syllabi have poured in and I'm facing down the largest stack of reading I've ever seen. This means that my time is not really my own any longer and, as such, I've had to cut back on a few things. My time with The Company appears to be coming to an end, mostly by necessity, but also somewhat by choice. I'm afraid there have been some changes within the company structure that no longer work for me; for example, leaving an employee waiting for a five minute answer for three weeks represents a break-down in the company mandate of "communicate, communicate, communicate!" There have been other assorted developments, such as a grading system (very secondary school) and the insistence that communication between departments cease unless through labyrinthine channels, that have resulted in extreme dissatisfaction. I think this might be a situation where the job was right at the time, but things have changed. I am glad to have had it for the last year. It did what I needed when I needed it, restoring some sense of balance and control to a period of my life balance and control were needed.

Now, a year later, little things like furniture does that for me.

The boxes are definitely getting better - that is to say, there are fewer of them. A pilgrimage to Ikea has brought a little more order to the place, as the kitchen now has adequate shelving (counter space is still an issue) and the living room is now anchored by a good-looking TV/sideboard unit. Michael rearranged boxes in the office so I could feel like I could work in the space (only have it invaded and colonized by the children for most of the week). I'm currently on the couch in the living room, sucking every last moment of wireless enjoyment out of the day and sorting papers so I can at least give some semblance of organization. The laptop is off to Gateway again as the monitor has picked up a weird discoloration in the lower right hand corner. I have had this laptop for less than a year. I am not pleased.

Those syllabi are calling and I've got class in 45 minutes. Time to pop the laptop case and pull the upgraded RAM. If they happen to replace the beast, I don't want to lose that investment.

Day one

2008-08-25T14:45:00.000+01:00

Notes from class:

I just did a beauty pageant wave for the students in my section as I was introduced by the professor. I am both disquieted and amused.

I currently have a large load of books to haul with me and all because I left my office keys on my desk at home. However, that extra time allowed me to order the rest of my books. I’m amazed; I was able to avoid the usual having of kittens simply by stopping myself and saying “Self, you need these books. You can’t get around it, you can’t avoid it. You just go through it and you might even keep some of these.” It’s an investment, see? The amounts were also amusing, just in that they took up about what I was expecting.

Thing One's arm has been put into a cast as even the orthopaedist couldn't tell if the growth plate was fractured last week. Apparently it's one of those things that will turn up on an X-ray in about three weeks. If there are fuzzy-looking outgrowths on the plate in three weeks, then it was a break. If not, then they were just really, really cautious.

Thing Two is doing fantastic with school, but The Kat's ADD has really asserted itself. The medication is no longer adequate, so we're off to the doctor on Wednesday to see if we can't get her sorted out. My own ADD has been a little more out of control lately, but I'm sure that has everything to do with the move and the very serious round of changes on my plate. In her case....she's grown since her last med check, so it's time to get that sorted.

Barbie girl

2008-08-23T22:36:00.002+01:00

There was a knock at the door just a few minutes ago and I fully expected it to be my landlord, back again to check on the magically functioning air conditioner. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise as two of the sorority sisters peered in through the glass of the front door (must get that frosted ASAP). When I opened the door, they introduced themselves as Malibu Barbie and Student Teacher Barbie and then apologized for the loud party last night. They invited me to come over and yell at them if they ever get too loud in the future.

After a few awkward noises about being understanding because they're just getting settled in and that things will improve after the beginning of the school year, Michael and I introduced ourselves and introduced the kids by proxy - they were just around the corner. This revelation of children was met with immediate cooing and offers to babysit, followed with a declaration from Malibu Barbie that she "could really use a job!" said in the same cadence as "Ready? Okay!" I nodded and smiled, which was the safest bet when they mentioned that they were in a sorority. I asked which one and they replied with a string of Greek words that I just can't recall; I told them that I was involved with Phi Alpha Theta and I'm surprised that they didn't jump up and down, clapping their hands with delight.

It was a test, people. Phi Alpha Theta is the history honors society.

Their attention spans were longer than I'd thought, as they looped back to the kids and asked what schools they attended. It was at this point that Student Teacher Barbie told us about her assignment to a school district about twenty-five minutes from here. Again, nodding and smiling politely were the best course, because that way I kept my relief for my children and their education all on the inside.

They seem like nice enough people, even if they are the walking embodiment of the sorority stereotype. I remain cautious....and will likely fill you in here as the school year proceeds.

Pork flooring

2008-08-23T16:40:00.003+01:00

The sorority sisters, all of whom appear to have embraced the Screechy McBooze aspect of college life, perched on their front porch last night, cackling and hollering until well after midnight. I was more or less patient, but after the stroke of twelve I had had about enough. I called in to the police department and started inquiring about a noise ordinance. Apparently there isn't such an animal, except as it pertains to construction, but an officer was dispatched as "disturbing the peace" is a legitimate complaint. The party (?) died out after the visit from Officer Friendly. I slept after that.

Thing One flew out of a swing at the department picnic on Wednesday and has either sprained his elbow or fractured the growth plate. We'll find out for certain when he meets with the orthopaedist on Monday. While it's rough as an injury, it's also a bother for cross-country. He's been told he can't run while his arm is like this. The first meet of the season is next week.

We'll see what happens.

Michael and I have been investing our options for furniture. So far we've been able to round up couches and a dining room table and chairs set, but that's not going to get us very far with bookcases and shelving for the kitchen. With that in mind, we went into Toledo to check out Furniture Drive. Our first stop, Value City Furniture, showed its hand very early. As soon as we entered the business, a salesman with dark circles under his eyes and a hungry look approached us and asked if he could help us find anything. Michael stepped back and let me do the talking, as he does so often in these situations because he knows that 1) I'll tell the salesperson to take a walk and 2) will likely do so with such acerbity that he'll end up with something to chuckle about. I let the salesman know that, if we needed help, we'd be certain to let him know. Normally that's the end of it, as the salesperson will usually get the idea, but Gary the Salesshark circled as we walked through the store. I don't think we looked like chum, but I might have been mistaken. I think my favorite salesshark maneuver was the Business Card Drive-By: shove a business card into Michael's hand while continuing to walk by us.

I left that place with a deep sense of relief.

It was not unlike the sense of relief when I got home after the hip kids' department party last night. I really enjoy my cohort and the members in my department. I don't have a problem with drinking at parties, although it's not something I do. It's the smoking that gets me. I love talking with other people in the group, but once that smoking comes out, I have a limited party shelf life.

It's really a pity. I was having a great time.

The air conditioner is finally! working. Can't even tell you how grateful I am for that.

Finding a few kindred

2008-08-23T03:07:00.004+01:00

The last three days of orientation were largely comprised of class sessions - some really good, very few pretty awful. I'd say the proportion came out to about a 3:1. Six of the classes were wonderful and the other three were enough that, if walking out was an acceptable solution, I would have walked. The first was all about how my research interest was a waste of time unless it could be turned into a marketable, lucrative product that would benefit the community at large. The next can be summed up as "you're coming here to know how to balance your marriage, your family, and grad school? you just do! Good luck!" The last completely set me off with the prof's assertion that you just do not publish until you're in your PhD unless you're really writing for your prof and his/her name is on it.

Fortunately, that last was debunked, both by experience and also by another person in my program. He and I discussed all sorts of things, school and family, and it was nice to talk with someone else that was of like mind. I've also gathered a little more information on what happened last year with my first application to Sunnydale North. It looks like I was one of a few who applied with the hopes of studying animation. I just drew the short straw last time, but it appears to have been all to the good.

I'm falling asleep, but there is more to say. Coming soon: Thing One's latest injury, The Prof (my supervisor) and the fact that he seems a good sort, Scary Gary, the Sales Shark, and the sorority sisters who need a little talking to. Also, the fact that I am not much of a party animal.

Good night.

"The death ray look that melts cement"

2008-08-20T03:06:00.002+01:00

I ended up late to my first session of graduate orientation classes today. Michael and I were busy getting the kids situated into school this morning. When I explained this to the first lecturer, whose presentation I just adored, she told me that I'd done exactly right. "They're more important than all of this," she said. I couldn't help but agree.

When it came to letting the kids go on their first day of school, I had to do it quick, like ripping off a band-aid. It stings, but it's over more quickly. Just for clarification: the sting takes a little longer to go away, but the actual separation takes almost no time at all. They're there in your arms, then they're gone to line up with their classes or race into the doors, hoping they can find their first class in the morass of students and the maze of a new school.

One of the classes I'm taking right now is on culture and childhood. The readings for the first class talk about how childhood is disappearing, but it's still alive and well in this house. I cherish my kids' childhoods and I know that none of them are ready to give them up just yet, not even Thing One, junior high student. He tears up at the mention of growing up and moving away from home. He still hugs me in front of everyone and wraps an arm around my waist while we stand next to one another. Thing Two is a little more reticent in public, but at home he's very free with a hug and telling me he loves me. The Kat is The Kat and loves just about everyone, but there are special hugs for mom and dad.

I know I've had a lot to say about my kids lately, but I make no apologies. While I keep this record in the public eye, it is, ultimately, for my family. It's the consequence of being the family scribe, I suppose. I'm just glad that those of you who read will forgive my lapses into sentimentality.

Carcinogen Barbie

2008-08-20T02:10:00.003+01:00

Let me tell you about our neighbors.

The neighbors to our left are a nice bunch. There are two or three couples living in that house, which has been subdivided as so many older homes are in a university town. One of the couples lived here until recently, so if I have questions about the property, I can get my answers from her. She's been very easy to talk to. She also has a dog, who I think has been mentioned previously.

The neighbors to our right, however, inspired today's title. According to the previous resident, they are either current or former sorority girls who love to party on their front porch and get undressed in front of their bedroom windows. There's at least one smoker in the bunch and, much to my distress, the smoke wafts right into our living room. I haven't turned the hose on them yet, but one stunt pulled today makes me wonder if that needs to be on my neighbor management list.

As with many older towns, the streets are narrow and usually only have parking on one side. We are fortunate enough to have a driveway and usually have no problems coming and going, but one of the lovely sorority sisters decided to park her Jeep Liberty in our driveway, leaving us blocked in. Not only did she park it, but she left the keys in and left it running. I fought down the temptation to move it for her and a good thing, too, as she did finally emerge. She introduced herself and looked for all the world like her hands were empty....like there might be pom-poms missing. After throwing an apology to us over her shoulder, she bounced and perked her way into her Jeep and left, hurrying around a nearby corner, most likely looking for some other unsuspecting driveway in which to park.

Again, I'm leaving the hose as a viable option.

"pro-zombie"

2008-08-18T01:09:00.000+01:00

Day one of boot camp was largely uneventful. As expected, I am the only member of my cohort to be doing anything in my area. Most of the others are very serious, researching religion, women's issues, fat studies, political science, and popular music. There are a few in film but again, it's all very serious stuff. And then you get me, with my animation as a historical document, and I stand out just a little bit.

The other thing that apparently makes me stand out is that I not only have a family, but a family that followed me out here. I didn't realise that that was such an anomaly, which makes me all the more grateful for my anomalous little band.

I've already made some good acquaintances and I think that, given enough time, we might even become good friends. I've already informed Michael that we're going to be adopting one of the women out here whose husband returns to Europe at the end of the week. She's such a sweetheart and I'm just glad to have not met anyone too prickly yet. I know it's coming, as that isn't avoidable, but I've been very lucky so far.

The kids start school tomorrow. They're nervous. So am I.

Michael is more nervous about developments with his right hand. He tried to cut the tip of his right index finger off on Friday, trying to catch a freshly-sharpened knife as it fell. When the blood spurted from the wound, it was as if it, too, were Olympics-minded as it was all about the distance and the accuracy. I was standing across the kitchen and it still got me, splashing my shirt and the wall behind me. Once I talked him into going to the emergency room, I discovered the joys of driving while nauseated, trying to keep my eyes off the kitchen towel pressed to the wound.

The ER doc set most of our worries to rest and, after cleaning the wound, glued it shut. He also gave us, entirely off the record, mind you, instructions on how and when to use the gluing method. Given our treatment, I suspect that our relationship with the Wood County ER will be a long and (mostly) happy one.

Trying to find a family doctor might be another issue. Alex went in to see a new doctor today and I can't tell if the guy has been in the position too long or if he had an unpleasant consultation right before coming into our room, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to be anywhere but in our room. I understand that doctors see a lot of patients and don't feel that they are compensated nearly what they want to be by insurance companies. I know that malpractice insurance and its costs have scared many right out of the field. However, I just need to know that I can go to this man with a concern about my children and have the reassurance that we will be treated with respect. I'm willing to give him one more shot, but if I don't think that we're clicking, we'll examine other options.

I think I took for granted the marvelous relationship we had with our last family doctor. We went to that office for the better part of ten years and we loved those people. I'm hoping for a similar situation with this new office.

Following in the steps of Henry Jones, Sr.

2008-08-16T15:47:00.001+01:00

Following in the steps of Henry Jones, Sr.
Originally uploaded by chickenygoodness

A few new shots up on Flickr, including our first visit to Maumee Bay.

Triplicate, redux

2008-08-15T20:46:00.002+01:00

Just when I think I have all the kids' paperwork filled out for school, I find out there's a whole lot more waiting in the wings. I will, quite literally, need to fill out the younger kids' paperwork again, in full, because the school is worried that they won't get the full file from the central office. Why not just register at the school directly? Because they just changed the policy! Hooray!

It appears that Thing Two may also fall victim to another policy change. We're still waiting to hear if there is to be band instruction in fifth grade. If not, I'll be in touch with the junior high band teacher (let's hear it for making parent friends with the cross-country mothers) and will try to match Thing Two up with a high schooler for lessons. I don't want to let him slip through the cracks on this. He's already invested two years in learning how to play and in becoming quite proficient; there's no reason for him to lose that because of political in-fighting on the school board.

The Kat is bouncing off the walls in her excitement to find out her teacher assignment. Thing Two is interested, but not quite ricocheting around the room. He's just waiting and observing, as is his habit.

Thing One just pulled off what he needed to qualify for Pre-Algebra. Pre-Algebra is the doorway to Algebra 1, which would be available in eighth grade and would qualify for high school credit. Given that he's already in a position to also get high school credit for French 1 next year, we're now trying to stack up as many high school cross-overs as possible. We already know that he's going to do concurrent enrollment in high school so he can earn his associates degree before he walks with his diploma.

Did I mention that he's running cross-country and will be starting swim team in October, with track to follow in March? And he's in choir and musical theater and Astronomy and Chemistry? And he appears to be thriving, making new friends and figuring out his locker combination and nearly surpassing me in height?

I wasn't ready for this to happen, but I suspect no parent is. I'm just grateful that, at the end of practice or school, he's still my son. I almost said "my baby", but he isn't much of a baby anymore. The Kat might be the only one to qualify, as she's only seven and still small enough to curl up in my lap. I'll hold her, and the boys, for as long as I can.

Phone tree day

2008-08-14T02:55:00.002+01:00

Michael and I attended New Parent Orientation over at the elementary school today. The principal, while a seemingly nice fellow, demonstrated himself to be the sort who laughs at his own jokes. He also appears to have been in the public school system for a while, which, while not always a bad thing, makes me wonder about his enthusiasm for the job. He looks for all the world like he's killing time until he retires.

I think my favorite part of the orientation came when he paused the school tour to point out a small plaque and set of pictures dedicated to Scott Hamilton, Olympic figure skater. The principal remarked "...and I'm sure when Scott returns to Bowling Green, he reflects fondly on his time at Kenwood Elementary." He might, but how many of us, by raise of hand, give much thought to our elementary schools if we've been gone for a while. I can remember the various schools I attended, but it's not as if I am willing to make a pilgrimage out of enthusiasm or fond remembrance.

Junior high orientation is tomorrow. The kids will be taking the tour while the parents are crammed into the auditorium for their talking to. I'm curious to see what approach is being taken with regard to teaching my kid, but I'll tell you that even adults can get fidgety when seated on bleachers for too long.

Catholic War Veterans of the US Highway

2008-08-13T14:14:00.002+01:00

The children each have pockets full of shells from Lake Erie. I have a camera full of pictures of Michael and kids and seagulls and a mind full or responsibilities still simmering while the house is still in flux. My desk didn't quite come through without damage, with the top and front wounded. I cried when I saw the damage, at least at first. However, my great-grandmother's RCA radio was saved, so the balance is more or less intatct.

I hate driving past vehicle transports; I'm always worried that the cars and trucks will come loose and hit my car. I'm facing three lanes with carriers.

Sleep has been elusive the last two nights, almost as elusive as a reliable wireless connection. Both sleep and access come in fits and starts. Both leave me restive and harried. A nap in the car has helped, but a good night should finish the cure.

Gold medal sock hunting

2008-08-12T14:43:00.002+01:00

I watched Thing One take off like a gazelle with the rest of the cross-country team today. The kid is built for speed, with long limbs and a lung capacity developed by living at an altitude of almost a mile up for most of his life. He's also kind of quirky and bent on being an individual. He sat with me on the floor of my office last night while I battled with HARDAC, the wireless router, and told me that he was a little nervous about meeting with his teammates this morning. As I opened my mouth to reassure him, he said "And don't tell me that it's going to be a great time to meet new people and bond with my team." I assured him that I wasn't about to say anything of the sort. I was going to tell him that running is more about his race with himself, but that the team aspect had some good benefits, too, but I'm not about to push him to identify too strongly with any one group just yet. He can find his own way, so long as his own way doesn't lead to drugs, alcohol, sex, or becoming the Unabomber.

I get the feeling that the less contact I have with the junior high secretary, the better. She gave all indications that she was annoyed that I was asking questions or trying to get my kid registered, almost annoyed that I showed up hyper-prepared yesterday, and even more annoyed that I was asking to speak with teachers already. It's a week before the start of school. I don't think there's anything untoward in my request. Maybe someone spit in her coffee. Who knows.

The elementary school secretary, on the other hand, was an absolute sweetheart. She seemed to genuinely give a rip about my kids and what I was saying about placement. She even seemed excited to meet them next week, which was a welcome relief.

I was introduced to my office at the university yesterday. It's really weird. I have an office and a phone number and a mailslot and I'll be keeping office hours and working with students. I'll also have an officemate who, by the look of the books on her desk, is heavily into feminist theory. This should be an interesting match. I just hope I don't want to skin her by the end of the first week, as I think that's generally discouraged with officemates.

Bank account established, doctor located, still itching for furniture so we can stop living in the sea of cardboard.

Wildlife check

2008-08-10T19:09:00.002+01:00

Animals sighted:

Squirrels
Rabbit
Cardinal
Cicadas (Thing Two now has a pet cicada named Phillip)
Smeared mother possum, complete with seven babies, out on our street

I haven't told Thing Two about the possum because I don't want him trying to reanimate it. He's already identified the storm cellar as a prime location for a workshop/lab and I've been trying to discourage him from it. I don't know what's in there. However, this kid is a lot like Lio in the flesh. He's going to embrace the weird and freaky just because he can.

Let the games begin

2008-08-08T03:34:00.001+01:00

It is a marvelous coincidence that we moved into our new house on the same day that the Olympic Games begin. There could be no better corollary, given the story of the gentlemen who, finishing over an hour after everyone else in his event, told reporters that his country had not sent him 7000 miles to start a race, but rather to finish it. I feel like that about graduate school. I have not arrived here to start my masters and doctoral degrees, but to finish them. Michael feels the same way about his job; he has not come to The Ohio to open an office, but to found an empire. Ambitious? You betcha. I wouldn’t have him any other way. I doubt he’d have me any other way, either.

We’re still getting the lay of the neighborhood. We picked up a curbside couch just down the road earlier and were able to use the purple house two doors down as the signpost for the lovely gentleman who brought the couch over via minivan. We’ve slapped a sheet on the couch as a cover, so it’s good enough for the next week. I suspect that it will be gone from our curb in a hurry when we turn it over.

The ABF truck didn’t arrive until after 8 pm tonight, which meant that we didn’t have much daylight during which to unpack. We found several items damaged – lamps, some of my office furniture – but other, more important items appear to have come through unscathed. The largest concerns were the antiques, particularly the barrister’s bookcase and my cedar chest. The old mirror made it, shockingly enough, but that’s more a testament to Michael’s packing acumen than anything else. It gives us hope for everything else.

As I said, dark fell pretty fast after the arrival of the truck, so we hauled boxes for as long as we could, capping it once the beds were pulled into the house and the fireflies were taking off. The twin beds were easy to take up via the normal route, that is, through the house and up the stairs, but the queen bed was a different matter entirely. Remember pictures of the Lonely Door at the end of the upstairs hall? I went through that door and onto the roof of the mud room so I could catch a box springs and mattress as tossed up by Michael and Thing One. Thing Two helped me haul the mattress back, but the hauling the box springs was a one-woman affair. Amazingly enough, and much to my relief, my back didn’t play up too much.

Thing Two caught a firefly and watched it closely as it continued to glow in his hands until he handed it over to me. I held it long enough to show it to Michael, then let it go. It was a magical thing, that moment, and I’m glad that he was able to enjoy it. I think we all enjoyed it, really.

If you’ll pardon me, though, sleep is a necessary feature now. I’ll be back tomorrow with a reliable internet connection (woo-hoo!) and more stories.

So close

2008-08-08T01:42:00.002+01:00

The suite also turned out to be dirty and the entire stay was comped. However, the one thing that I nearly learned the hard way was that Priceline makes it difficult even for a hotel to dispute charges on behalf of a guest. The hotel wanted to refund the money, Priceline refused, the manager gave me a refund anyway. I was invited to return in a few months to see the change that is presently underway; given the response of the management, I would give them another try.

We're in Perrysburg right now, watching the finale of So You Think You Can Dance and just waiting for tomorrow to dawn. We move in tomorrow.

The drive from Utah to Ohio has been a pretty tight fit, with cats and kids and a few extra bits and bobs that weren't shipped on Monday. Fortunately, the cats responded well to the harness and leash thing, particularly while sedated, and the girl cats surprised us by being easy to work with when it came to pills. Clovar put up a fight, surprisingly enough.

There were moments where the kids got restless, but I found that reading out loud to them went a long way toward dealing with the restive moments. I've been reading The Lightning Thief to them and there appears to be a general consensus that my reading voice is good. Also, I think they get a kick out of my goat bleat. I swear....in another life, I could have happily been a voice-over artist.

The sceneries were fairly homogeneous through eastern Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana. Corn field, soy field, forest, river. Repeat. With that said, the clouds were gorgeous and I spent most of my time looking up when not reading or wrangling cats and children. It's as if I haven't taken time to look at the clouds for months, although my Flickr account indicates otherwise.

I'm nervous about moving in tomorrow. I've been in a limbo state for the past few weeks and graduate school orientation looms large, as do independent writing assignments and outstanding work assignments. I need to send out a message to my panelists as well as write my own presentation on Warner Bros and their concepts of the future and whether or not there was anticipation, whether development was concurrent, or if the cartoons came after the fact. I still need to be mom, too, and get the kids registered and in to doctors before school starts.

Did I mention we have no furniture to speak of? Desks and a few antiques, mattresses, but nothing else? I need to rectify that, too.

Welcome to Ohio, I suppose. I'm more excited than I sound, but I suspect that might be the late hour talking.

"Homage to all of the rabbits who died in the hands of incompetent magicians."

Nebraska

2008-08-07T16:00:00.001+01:00

Nebraska
Originally uploaded by chickenygoodness

And just one more because I thought it was beautiful.

Trunks & Humps

2008-08-07T15:59:00.001+01:00

Trunks
Originally uploaded by chickenygoodness

There's new pictures up on the Flickr account. I can't stay long...need to sedate the cats and get back on the road. We've got Iowa, Illinois, Indiana (where the roads are wretched), and Ohio to cover today.

Good thing they're all small states.

"Mom, we might have a Ceiling Cat!" - The Kat

2008-08-07T07:02:00.002+01:00

I'm finding that, even when hotels have the same name, the same standard may not be upheld by all locations.

Last week I booked accommodations for this week's trip at three La Quinta Inns. These hotels were chosen for location and for the pet-friendly policies. Price did not figure in. The first hotel, located in North Platte, Nebraska, was lovely. Nice, clean room, abundant breakfast, absolutely no complaints. I was really expecting the same thing when I arrived at hotel two this evening. Instead I found sticky something on the desk and bedside tables and what I can only describe as escaped nachos on top of the TV cabinet. The furniture was filthy and I wasn't too excited about the bedding, either. I tried to get this across to the night clerk, even being willing to try a different room. Unfortunately, room two was not much of an improvement over room one, so I refused the room and asked for cleaning supplies instead, all the while voicing my displeasure at the need for me to perform maid service in my own room. If it's my mess, I'll clean it up. If it's someone else's nachos, I really must draw the line.

I went back to the room and this time took pictures. After gathering sufficient evidence, I again descended on the front desk. I get the feeling that the guy was about to just comp the room to get me out of his face, but I insisted that he call the general manager instead.

And that's how we were upgraded to the suite.

The next stop received great reviews on Priceline; I hope it lives up to its potential. Tomorrow morning I'll tell you about Trunks & Humps. I might even upload a picture or two to go with it.

Just heard on the news

2008-08-07T03:09:00.003+01:00

Iowa has apparently had a very busy day. I think my favorite story was about a truckload of bananas taken out by a buffalo, smearing the road with what could have been one of the larger banana splits on record. No word on delivery of ice cream or chocolate sauce.

Also, "not hot" is, evidently, an acceptable weather descriptor. I had no idea that the meteorological lexicon had progressed so far.

Today in Star Trek history

2008-08-06T15:02:00.002+01:00

We will be driving past both Broken Bow, Nebraska, and Riverside, Iowa. According to Star Trek: Enterprise, Broken Bow was the crash landing site of a Klingon ship in the time of Jonathan Archer and Riverside, Iowa, claims James T. Kirk as one of its favorite sons.

I think it's likely to be one geeky day. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be giving cats pills.