Ok, I’ve been away from this blog for so long that I’m really at a loss for where to start again. It is sort of like hooking up with an old friend after a long time has passed, how do you cover all that lost time? Now I know you are thinking – “Its only been two months…” I’ve been so busy over those two months that looking back it almost seems more like a year. So I’ll give you the quick recap and then hopefully I’ll have the time to go back and actually write out some of the more interesting moments.
May brought the end of the semester and the end of the three class teaching load. Of course that meant giant piles of exams, papers and labs to crank through. I also taught a May semester summer course. (Out of the frying pan and into the fire). All the time I’ve been worried about not having gotten a job for the fall and wondering how I was going to survive and whether I would have to give up on archaeology after 8 years of postgraduate education.
I had to decide whether I could somehow manage to do a field season in Kenya while unemployed. If I didn’t go I would be shooting myself in the proverbial foot (missing a great career opportunity). If I go, the financial situation could get more then a little dicey. I had to take a total leap of faith and decided to go. Two days before leaving for Kenya I received tentative news that I would in fact have a PostDoc for the fall. So I hopped a plane for the Dark Continent with a relatively clear conscience. I got there ok, of course my baggage did not…
Spent five weeks in mortal combat with two recalcitrant Land Cruisers and dodging hippos while trying to get some serious work done. More on that later. The day before leaving the field I got killer food poisoning. Hooray for Cipro. Made it home safe, with all my stuff. Sweet.
Now I’m excavating up at the Mashantucket Pequot reservation for the remainder of the summer. For the first days, I hurt in places I didn’t even realize had muscles, but I’m getting better now. Soon I’ll add my running regimen back in, and hopefully I’ll survive that.
So, that’s the last two months in a nutshell. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to fill in the gaps along the way (between shovelfuls of dirt).
Ciao.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Another day in the neighborhood
So, life in my neighborhood has always consisted of generally long periods of low level neighborly irritation punctuated by the absurd – such as naked neighbor (a story for another day, if you don’t already know).
Winter passed relatively quietly, it usually does with everyone locked in to hide from the cold, but alas, the warmer weather has begun to return and the proverbial shit has seriously hit the fan. The last two weeks have been eventful to say the least.
It began with the apartment building across the street catching on fire. It was only minor, but the street was blocked all night. A few days later I was sitting outside correcting quizzes, trying to enjoy the sunshine. A big silver Armada and a black Impala rolled to a stop in front of the house and about six really big guys piled out. This was the first cause for alarm – no one in my neighborhood has cars like that. They proceed to bang on the all the doors of the house that we share our driveway with. Just then the back apartment opens, my neighbor deciding at the moment to take out the cat litter, only to suddenly find himself in handcuffs. What?!? Now I am lurking behind my shed trying to figure out what the hell is going on. I hear them yelling at him for being an unregistered sex offender! Great…. It even made the papers, along with a lovely expose on the (rather alarming) statistics for unregistered offenders in the state of CT.
As if that wasn’t enough, exactly one week later, most of the neighborhood is sound asleep. Well we were all woken up by a loud “pop, pop” and shouting. Yeah that would be gunfire. Fun. Cops were wandering around for a while looking for anyone who might have gotten perforated. Saturday morning was when Dan discovered the shell casings on our front walk a mere 20 feet from the house. That did little to make me feel better. The police officer actually had the audacity to say that moving wasn’t going to solve the problem, that you couldn’t escape it anymore. Hmmm, I don’t seem to recall ANYONE ever firing a gun from my front walk when I lived in Pomfret, Mystic or Hampton… at least the hicks in Hampton had good aim, and they were usually shooting at cans in the back yard – not at each other. Quite the induction to spring, here’s to getting it out of the system and welcoming a quite summer. Please?
Winter passed relatively quietly, it usually does with everyone locked in to hide from the cold, but alas, the warmer weather has begun to return and the proverbial shit has seriously hit the fan. The last two weeks have been eventful to say the least.
It began with the apartment building across the street catching on fire. It was only minor, but the street was blocked all night. A few days later I was sitting outside correcting quizzes, trying to enjoy the sunshine. A big silver Armada and a black Impala rolled to a stop in front of the house and about six really big guys piled out. This was the first cause for alarm – no one in my neighborhood has cars like that. They proceed to bang on the all the doors of the house that we share our driveway with. Just then the back apartment opens, my neighbor deciding at the moment to take out the cat litter, only to suddenly find himself in handcuffs. What?!? Now I am lurking behind my shed trying to figure out what the hell is going on. I hear them yelling at him for being an unregistered sex offender! Great…. It even made the papers, along with a lovely expose on the (rather alarming) statistics for unregistered offenders in the state of CT.
As if that wasn’t enough, exactly one week later, most of the neighborhood is sound asleep. Well we were all woken up by a loud “pop, pop” and shouting. Yeah that would be gunfire. Fun. Cops were wandering around for a while looking for anyone who might have gotten perforated. Saturday morning was when Dan discovered the shell casings on our front walk a mere 20 feet from the house. That did little to make me feel better. The police officer actually had the audacity to say that moving wasn’t going to solve the problem, that you couldn’t escape it anymore. Hmmm, I don’t seem to recall ANYONE ever firing a gun from my front walk when I lived in Pomfret, Mystic or Hampton… at least the hicks in Hampton had good aim, and they were usually shooting at cans in the back yard – not at each other. Quite the induction to spring, here’s to getting it out of the system and welcoming a quite summer. Please?
Thursday, April 10, 2008
The Anti-Blogger
Well, despite actually getting several of my friends hooked on blogging, I seem to have dropped off the radar. I guess it is time that I addressed the silence. The thing is that I enjoy blogging, quite a bit actually, except that when I started this I vowed not to use it as a forum to gripe – no one wants to read that.
So the long and the short of it is this… It has been a hard year. I am definitely working harder now then when I was finishing my dissertation, and let me tell you it is far less rewarding. I am still waiting, as patiently as possible, to find out if I will have a job come next fall. I am generally a very patient person, sometimes I can be downright dogged, but everyone has their limits. The reality is that I just do not deal well psychologically with uncertainty. If I knew that I would be guaranteed a faculty position in one more year, I might be able to hold out. The thought of going through another school year like this one only to fail in the job search again is almost more than I can handle. Consequently, I’ve begun to ponder some serious life changes.
I find it frightening to consider leaving the field of archaeology after coming this far, but one thing not one can ever take away is the achievements I earned this far. I hate failing. When I was a kid, I wasn’t overly athletic. I hated being that kid who was not picked for the team; I hated not being able to do something and being afraid to try for fear of failing. I hated living in my own little shell. I can point to one moment in my life and say that is where I woke up and found my self-confidence. I stopped caring about being liked or disliked and I stopped being afraid of trying. Instead I developed the “You think I can’t do it, just watch me” attitude. I stopped being the timid little girl and took life by the horns. I might not have been the best as sports, but I definitely developed an aggressive, competitive streak. Much later in life, doing fieldwork in Kenya presented me with so many more challenges and fears to conquer, and I did. I think this is why I feel so miserable when thinking about accepting a career change. I feel like I am giving up – and that is something I haven’t done since I stepped out of the halls of Pomfret Community School for the last time in 1988.
Just in case you worry that “You think I can’t do it, just watch me” attitude might be disappearing – I’ve turned it something else – running. Yes, me. Running (I did a mile and a half yesterday). For those of you who know me that is pretty self-evident.
So the long and the short of it is this… It has been a hard year. I am definitely working harder now then when I was finishing my dissertation, and let me tell you it is far less rewarding. I am still waiting, as patiently as possible, to find out if I will have a job come next fall. I am generally a very patient person, sometimes I can be downright dogged, but everyone has their limits. The reality is that I just do not deal well psychologically with uncertainty. If I knew that I would be guaranteed a faculty position in one more year, I might be able to hold out. The thought of going through another school year like this one only to fail in the job search again is almost more than I can handle. Consequently, I’ve begun to ponder some serious life changes.
I find it frightening to consider leaving the field of archaeology after coming this far, but one thing not one can ever take away is the achievements I earned this far. I hate failing. When I was a kid, I wasn’t overly athletic. I hated being that kid who was not picked for the team; I hated not being able to do something and being afraid to try for fear of failing. I hated living in my own little shell. I can point to one moment in my life and say that is where I woke up and found my self-confidence. I stopped caring about being liked or disliked and I stopped being afraid of trying. Instead I developed the “You think I can’t do it, just watch me” attitude. I stopped being the timid little girl and took life by the horns. I might not have been the best as sports, but I definitely developed an aggressive, competitive streak. Much later in life, doing fieldwork in Kenya presented me with so many more challenges and fears to conquer, and I did. I think this is why I feel so miserable when thinking about accepting a career change. I feel like I am giving up – and that is something I haven’t done since I stepped out of the halls of Pomfret Community School for the last time in 1988.
Just in case you worry that “You think I can’t do it, just watch me” attitude might be disappearing – I’ve turned it something else – running. Yes, me. Running (I did a mile and a half yesterday). For those of you who know me that is pretty self-evident.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Quote of the Day
The word 'politics' is derived from the word 'poly', meaning 'many', and the word 'ticks', meaning 'blood sucking parasites'. - Larry Hardiman
I’m afraid I don’t have much to report, other then the slow recovery from ten days of the flu. Of course now I’m bogged down in all the work that piled up while I was unable to anything except lie in my bed and groan.
The sun is managing to peak out – hopefully it is a harbinger of spring. This means it is time to start walking again. In this neighborhood that usually means plenty of fodder for the old blog. Here’s to spring!
I’m afraid I don’t have much to report, other then the slow recovery from ten days of the flu. Of course now I’m bogged down in all the work that piled up while I was unable to anything except lie in my bed and groan.
The sun is managing to peak out – hopefully it is a harbinger of spring. This means it is time to start walking again. In this neighborhood that usually means plenty of fodder for the old blog. Here’s to spring!
Friday, February 22, 2008
Snow Day
Usually I bitch about the weather in New England. Frankly I hate the friggin cold. Occasionally however you can get me to say I love the snow – when it results in a snow day. I miserably rolled out of bed at 5:30 this morning bemoaning my fate. Looked out the window at the fresh blanket of snow and headed for the computer. Yes!!!! All classes cancelled today due to inclement weather. I quickly found my way back to my still warm bed, eternally thankful for my reprieve. I guess if you live in Florida – you don’t get snow days. Now I have a reason to stay home and catch up on my work. I think my cats have forgotten who I am I’ve been home so little lately. I can’t think of anything better (until I have to shovel…).
Friday, February 08, 2008
UFO
Ok, I just found one of those unidentifiable objects on the floor that strikes fear into the heart of any woman. WHAT IS THAT???? Next you find yourself leaning over it going through a mental litany only a cat owner or mother of a small child could possibly conceive
“Is it poop?”
“No. If it isn’t, do I want to know what it is? Probably not.”
“Animal, vegetable or mineral?”
“Definitely animal. Oh God I really can’t handle more frightening mouse parts right now, please not the mouse parts… “
Where’s the tissues? (this is why women are stronger then men, for example, I don’t know any man brave enough to confront the really scary stuff that accumulates in the drain basket in the sink…)
Phew, its safe. A glace at the coffee table brings recognition. It seems my darling husband left his dinner plate on the coffee table last night complete with the piece of steak gristle he found inedible. Guess Simba thought it was inedible too, after he decided to steal it.
That’s my UFO (unidentifiable food object) of the day!
“Is it poop?”
“No. If it isn’t, do I want to know what it is? Probably not.”
“Animal, vegetable or mineral?”
“Definitely animal. Oh God I really can’t handle more frightening mouse parts right now, please not the mouse parts… “
Where’s the tissues? (this is why women are stronger then men, for example, I don’t know any man brave enough to confront the really scary stuff that accumulates in the drain basket in the sink…)
Phew, its safe. A glace at the coffee table brings recognition. It seems my darling husband left his dinner plate on the coffee table last night complete with the piece of steak gristle he found inedible. Guess Simba thought it was inedible too, after he decided to steal it.
That’s my UFO (unidentifiable food object) of the day!
Friday, January 18, 2008
The sort of dumb-ass thing you only do on a dare…
So the first night we were in North Carolina we went to East Coast Wings and Grille for dinner. The menu sported the insanity wing. Yes, singular – you only get one, AND you have to sign a waiver to get it. That should have been a sign. Big, flashing, neon sign saying DON’T DO THIS DUMBASS!
So, Dan, Kenneth and Brandy decided to try the wing, you got your picture put up on the wall if you actually ate it. There weren’t actually that many people up on the wall – that should have been another sign.
Now, I really like hot food and I can usually hang with the big boys when it comes to hot food. However, I guess I’ve been lulled into a false sense of security in the north, where when you ask a restaurant to make something spicy they simply ignore you, afraid that they will overdo it and you won’t be able to eat your dinner (and therefore will refuse to pay for it). Now I know better.
Dan had a run in once with some pretty serious wings at Olympic, he said there were fumes coming off them that nearly made you choke. This was in the back of my mind when the three little paper boxes with one wing each arrived. I asked Brandy if I could smell one, there were no fumes, and it didn’t even smell serious. So, dumbass that I am, I asked to split it with her.
So she cut off half and gave it to me. I got a bite sized piece about one and a half inches long. I popped it in my mouth, chewed – nothing – swallowed – OH MY GOD (doesn’t even cover it). I have never experienced pain like that before in my life – not the allergic to niacin incident, not breaking my leg – not anything. The worst part was that you think it’s fine – it takes time to kick in and by then you have already swallowed it – trouble…
So the scene around the table is this: I was dying, realizing how wrong I was, and just trying to keep my cool. I ate the sour cream from my dinner, and then I started in on the ranch dressing. Sarah said she though I was ok till she saw me take the remainder of the ranch dressing and smear it all over my lips. Poor Brandy was about one step from total hyperventilation. It was so bad that the heat permeated your entire body.
Kenneth was silently crying. I couldn’t see Daniel.
Next thing I hear is “OH MY GO MY FREAKING EARS!!!!!” – Brandy
This didn’t strike me a humorous at the time, as I was experiencing the same pain, and was really focused the time when maybe, just maybe life wouldn’t suck as much – I mean when was the last time you saw me drink a glass of milk?
However the “freakin ears” comment struck her brothers as particularly funny despite the pain. Daniel managed to laugh and snort iced tea & insanity hot wing through his nose. That is NOT somewhere I would want the spice from that hot wing anywhere near! From Brandy’s point of view this was just desserts for laughing at her. How he could laugh was beyond me...
Somehow I managed to survive by eating ice continuously for about 1 hour afterwards. The ice lowered my body temperature so much I was shivering but I didn’t feel cold because my insides were on fire. My mouth cooled off finally but my stomach was on fire for 24 hours. The best description I can come up with is flaming indigestion caused by drinking a bottle of Draino and then lighting a match. It took us all a day or so to get over that – and I didn’t even eat the whole thing!!
Of course news travels fast in this family – I didn’t live that one down the whole trip. “Anyone want hot wings?” Now that it is all in the past – I definitely see the humor in the situation – especially the “freaking ears” comment (sorry Brandy, don’t kill me). I wish I had time to go back and see the pictures on the wall – I’m sure mine is not flattering, seeing as I really had very little control over my facial muscles at the time and any attempt at smiling was simply out of the question.
So, Dan, Kenneth and Brandy decided to try the wing, you got your picture put up on the wall if you actually ate it. There weren’t actually that many people up on the wall – that should have been another sign.
Now, I really like hot food and I can usually hang with the big boys when it comes to hot food. However, I guess I’ve been lulled into a false sense of security in the north, where when you ask a restaurant to make something spicy they simply ignore you, afraid that they will overdo it and you won’t be able to eat your dinner (and therefore will refuse to pay for it). Now I know better.
Dan had a run in once with some pretty serious wings at Olympic, he said there were fumes coming off them that nearly made you choke. This was in the back of my mind when the three little paper boxes with one wing each arrived. I asked Brandy if I could smell one, there were no fumes, and it didn’t even smell serious. So, dumbass that I am, I asked to split it with her.
So she cut off half and gave it to me. I got a bite sized piece about one and a half inches long. I popped it in my mouth, chewed – nothing – swallowed – OH MY GOD (doesn’t even cover it). I have never experienced pain like that before in my life – not the allergic to niacin incident, not breaking my leg – not anything. The worst part was that you think it’s fine – it takes time to kick in and by then you have already swallowed it – trouble…
So the scene around the table is this: I was dying, realizing how wrong I was, and just trying to keep my cool. I ate the sour cream from my dinner, and then I started in on the ranch dressing. Sarah said she though I was ok till she saw me take the remainder of the ranch dressing and smear it all over my lips. Poor Brandy was about one step from total hyperventilation. It was so bad that the heat permeated your entire body.
Kenneth was silently crying. I couldn’t see Daniel.
Next thing I hear is “OH MY GO MY FREAKING EARS!!!!!” – Brandy
This didn’t strike me a humorous at the time, as I was experiencing the same pain, and was really focused the time when maybe, just maybe life wouldn’t suck as much – I mean when was the last time you saw me drink a glass of milk?
However the “freakin ears” comment struck her brothers as particularly funny despite the pain. Daniel managed to laugh and snort iced tea & insanity hot wing through his nose. That is NOT somewhere I would want the spice from that hot wing anywhere near! From Brandy’s point of view this was just desserts for laughing at her. How he could laugh was beyond me...
Somehow I managed to survive by eating ice continuously for about 1 hour afterwards. The ice lowered my body temperature so much I was shivering but I didn’t feel cold because my insides were on fire. My mouth cooled off finally but my stomach was on fire for 24 hours. The best description I can come up with is flaming indigestion caused by drinking a bottle of Draino and then lighting a match. It took us all a day or so to get over that – and I didn’t even eat the whole thing!!
Of course news travels fast in this family – I didn’t live that one down the whole trip. “Anyone want hot wings?” Now that it is all in the past – I definitely see the humor in the situation – especially the “freaking ears” comment (sorry Brandy, don’t kill me). I wish I had time to go back and see the pictures on the wall – I’m sure mine is not flattering, seeing as I really had very little control over my facial muscles at the time and any attempt at smiling was simply out of the question.
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