From the Ape (4/1/2011)

This (edited) post comes to you via my old blog that I will probably delete soon. 

"When that Aprill with his shoures sote

The droght of Marche hath perced to the rote,

Ans bathed every veyne in swich licour

Of which vertu engendred in the flour;

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,

And smale fowles maken melodye,

That slepen al the night with open yë

(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages):

Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages..."

           --Geoffrey Chaucer The Canturbury Tales: Prologue

Spring fever - we all want to get outside and enjoy some fresh air and sunshine, even if it means a religious pilgrimage.

My students stare at the board blankly, even more so than usual, wishing they were on a blanket at the park or on a chaise by the pool. 

This time of year always reminds me of one student in particular. His name was Andrew, a trig student that I had in the first spring after my return to UA. My classes were back-to-back, and in the ten minutes between them, I would often chat with the students as the first class trickled out and the second class trickled in. Spring fever having hit and some students having lost all hope of passing, only half the second class attended on a regular basis, and I became friendly with those fifteen or so people. 

So it was in the five minutes before class began that I chatted with them, and Andrew made a grand appearance. "I made it," he proclaimed, drowning out all other conversation. 

There was good reason for his enthusiasm. He had three unexcused absences, and since he needed to replace his lowest test grade with his final exam score, he couldn't miss anymore days. He had to come to class, no matter what. No matter what, indeed.

His white three-button shirt and khaki pants were soaked and streaked with mud and grass stains. The knee was torn out of one leg of his pants, and I could see that his knuckles, his lower lip, and one of his eyebrows were bleeding. He swayed and clung to the doorframe to remain upright.

"Andrew, what happened to you?" I asked.

"Whhheeeell."  He blinked slowly, and his breath washed into the room. He was very drunk. "See, I went out last night and got really drunk." 

I nodded. The rest of the class was now fully rapt and chuckling. "I think you still are."

"Oh, I am." He nodded. "I, ah, left the bar, but I never made it home. I haven't been to sleep yet. Then it was like, 'Oh fuck you guys! I gotta go to trig. I can't miss anymore days.' So I got my buddy's bike and rode here." He made locomotive motions with fisted hands. I nodded and fought a smile. "And like, I wrecked, and I got in a fight with a sprinkler."

"That explains the blood and the mud."

One of the girls in the class who knew him said, "You drunk idiot." He pointed at her and then kind of staggered into the nearest desk. 

"Andrew, do you have a phone?" I asked. He nodded. "Okay. Can you call someone to come pick you up?" He nodded. "Okay. I think you should because you can be arrested for being drunk in a University facility. I don't want to have to call the cops on you."

"But, I can't miss any more days," he whined.

"I won't count it against you."

He banged his elbow against the wall as he stood in a tazmanian devil style manner. "Really?" He reached into his pocket, smearing blood on its edge, to dig out his phone. When I nodded, he dialed. After a few moments, he said, "Dude, come get me at the front." He staggered out of the classroom. "No, she's totally cool. She's not even going to call the cops!"

The class and I stepped out into the hall to watch him go. He ran down the hall, tripped over his own feet, fell, got up, and resumed running. Before he made it to the stairs that would take him outside, he shouted, "Woo-hoo," with fist pumps toward the ceiling and then executed a surpsingly agile heel-click.

"Well," I said as I surveyed my remaining students. "Now that the entertainment portion of the class is over, let's get to work." I ushered the class back into the room and continued my lecture on sequences and series.

Good Sign?

The chair asked me to be on a search committee for a new position in our department. It is safe to say this means they plan to keep me at least one more year?

::happy dance::

Overwhelming

May was a whirlwind, and June is looking to be a tornado.

In May, I interviewed for and accepted a job offer at Eastern Kentucky University. This means that my little family of three will uproot and move from Alabama. I'm sad to leave behind all my family (and Fluffy's family) and many friends, but this job looks to be a good fit for the direction my teaching career has taken. I'm excited to be working full-time again, and I am thrilled that we will be moving close to two sets of very dear friends.

Last week, Fluffy and I capped off this exciting month by driving (6 hours) to Kentucky to look for houses. Three and a half grueling days later, we found what we feel is the perfect house for us right now. It isn't that much larger than our current house, but it has 3 bedrooms and much more natural light. It's close to work and in a great neighborhood/area. I think we will be happy there for several years, provided I am happy at the job for as long.

The primary source of "wind" in May was the trip, nerves over finding a house, and issues we encountered when getting a loan. It is hard to get a loan when you don't have a current paycheck or a signed contract, but when such a thing happens, look local. Those homegrown banks are willing to help out folks that will be professionals in their towns.

With the choice of house and loan made, we move into June. I stand - arms crossed and foot tapping - waiting for my contract to arrive so I can sign it and send a copy to the bank. We can't close on the house without that. Hopefully the bit of nudging my department head gave the dean will help things along with the higher ups. Move your pens, people! I need in my house before school starts!

Adding to the stress of getting all the paperwork in order is the stress of trying to sell our house in Alabama. The house has been on the market since Monday around 10am, and we have already had 5 visits. Two more are scheduled for tomorrow. There is plenty of interest, but so far, no offers. And the folks who came tonight came in a downpour - definitely the worst time to show the house as they could see how horrible it gets when we have flashflood-type rain. These visits are rough on Spawn, as we have to pack him up and take him away, often screwing up the schedule to which he has grown accustomed. This makes him whiny, which makes Fluffy and I irritable and snippy. We are all sleepy and grumpy.

I just hope someone makes a good offer soon. That way, we can have July to just chill before August comes and brings with it the stress of a new job.

SMH

Why, oh why, must everything happen at once? First, my book came out. Then, I got a new job. Now, I'm trying to find a new house in a city seven hours away and sell my house. So much for a calm summer.

AFK

I've been absent from the writing world for the last week or so. My blog and Facebook posts have been brief (and about my hatred for airports). I've spent little to no time on Twitter and little to no time editing and writing. Instead, I was preparing for a job interview.

Interviewing for an assistant professor position is quite different than any other interview experience I've had. These things last about 8 hours. It gives you and your prospective employers a chance to see how you are over a day. You see the campus, the town, meet possible fellow employees, chat with deans, etc. It gives you a chance to say the same things over and over to different people until your nerves are melted away by fatigue.

My committee seemed more interested in Fluffy's research than mine, but I have the skill set they want. One might say this job is perfect for me, for the direction my career has taken. I would be preparing future teachers -- something I've been doing for about 6 years now -- but with the opportunity, in fact the main goal, of designing courses for the master's program. This is extremely exciting! No more freshmen who couldn't make up their minds and just picked teaching. No more eye rolls and class time spent texting instead of actively involved. Small classes!! Tiny classes -- something I haven't encountered since I taught community college -- and a dean and department that keep classes small, no matter what the student population is. 

On paper, I am a great candidate for this position. In person, I believe I come across as genuine and open. I don't make false promises or claim knowledge or experience I don't have, as those types of mistakes ALWAYS come back to haunt me.

I felt the interview was going swimmingly until the end of my research presentation. One of the professors asked me to draw a diagram. I drew it but then I couldn't figure out where all the arcs inside it should be. Without preparation, this type of figure takes some time, a good 10 or more minutes, to draw. After five minutes of staring at the paper, I called it quits. In hindsight, I realized I had the correct diagram and should've stopped. In hindsight, I realized I needed to start with a different version of the parent diagram in order to get a nice ending diagram.

The really annoying part is that none of them knew that I was right all along.  I looked like a fool for no reason. Nothing to do about it though. I can't go back and say, "Oh, hey, I was right." When the committee chair picked me up to take me to dinner, he said the committee didn't feel that my mistake was a deal-breaker. That's a relief, but I still hate looking like an ass in front of twenty people AND on video!

I think the school interviewed three other people, and I was the last. I wasn't told where I was in the hierarchy of candidates, but the committee chair made it clear to me, several times, that I am the one he wants for this job. I would feel good about working there. I always feel good about teaching, but it will be a very nice change to work for a dean who appreciates his underlings.

Now, until I know more, back to writing and peddling my book!