Guy's Guide to Halloween

G. has always complained about his January 10th birthday.

When we thought that having kids would be easy, G. and I discussed the best month to have a birthday.  G. crossed out December, January, and most of February as being too close to the holidays.  Having always missed out out on class cupcakes and birthday celebrations, I eliminated all of the summer months.  We decided on March and April.

Our kids were born in February.

But G. has discovered a way around having a birthday elipsed by Christmas.  He's adopted October, specifically Halloween, as his favorite time of the year.  I love Fall, personally.  I love the air's sudden crispness, the tang of fresh apples, and the chill on my skin. 

G. thinks these things are just fine, but his feelings about the month stems from an entirely different set of items:

1)  Horror Movies -  G. loves a good horror movie and is always quoting them.  "Your suffering will be legendary, even in Hell!" I've seen some of them with him and find them amusing, but I refuse to see anything made within the last ten years.  Nasty stuff, that.

2) Toys & Gadgets - In addition to the Walking Hand, we've also acquired the Evil Talking Head.  It sits in a bowl and shouts out "are you suuuuuuuuuuuuure you want to do that" as you reach for a Reese's Peanut Butter cup.  It does not deter me at all.  The twins, however, were a little more leery.

3) Pumpkins- At last count, we had five pumpkins.  We will no doubt have more by tomorrow.  I like pumpkins too, until they get all smushy.  The twins love them.  They've been picking them up by their stems and dragging them around the house for the last few days.

4) Scarying People Me - Hiding in the back of the mini-van only to jump up and shout "boo!" just as your spouse starts the car is not amusing.  He would claim that hiding a large fake spider in the toilet and closing the lid is equally unfunny.  But it is funny.

The Red Sox winning the World Series was just icing on the cake.  "Best October, evah," G. said. 

Tots About Town

After playing in the front yard most of Saturday morning, Hen and Ty hit a farewell bash for a friend of their long-time assistant, otherwise known as mom.  The twins, sporting matching Red Sox jerseys, partied well into the early evening.  "They seemed really relaxed and friendly," says a source.  "They were eating, drinking, just hanging out and having fun."

The following day, the duo were spotted entering a prominent photography studio where they stayed for about two hours.  "They wouldn't stop screaming," says the photographer who snapped the pix of the boys.  "We had this nice Christmas display all set up and they didn't even look at it twice."  Another onlooker noted that "They tried to get Hen to settle down by giving him a stuffed animal, but he just threw it across the room."  The unruly tikes were soon bundled into their car and driven away by their assistant.  They were later spotted at the hot Hollywood eatery, Chez Suz.

Written for week's Monday Mission, hosted by The Flying Mum. The mission was: You are a Superstar! What are the tabloids saying about you today?  I so read Peo.ple.  Shhhh...don't tell.

To My Alarm Clock

To My Sweet Alarm Clock,

You and I have had a long history together.  For over ten years, you gently whispered NPR into my ear every morning to make sure I got to school or work on time.  You've seen me through final exams and early morning flights.  You've been knocked off the bed side table, hidden under the bed, and perched precariously on a dresser.  But you've always hung in there, doing your job.

Now, as you sit covered in dust, you must be a little concerned.  Why I have I not used you in so long?  What happened to our reliable 6:30am wake-up time together?

Truth be told, I have a new system.  Rather than NPR, however, the system wakes me up to a variety of sounds from crying to babbling to screaming my name.  Also, the system doesn't seem to accept any settings later than 7:00am.  In fact, it's not very good at accepting settings at all.  When I request a later rising time on a Saturday, like today, I get woken up at 4:15am in the morning.  Have I mentioned that "snooze" doesn't always work?

Now granted, this new system does come with glad toddler smiles and sweet faces, but all of this can be of cold comfort so early in the morning.  In short, alarm clock, I miss you and think often of the time when we can hopefully be together again.

Until then,

Suz

READ!!

A few weeks ago, I did the Library Thing Book Meme.

As I typed in all those books that I read, two things struck me. 

Number One:  I don't read that much anymore.  I read most of the books on that list before age 20 and remember them only in the most sketchy fashion.  My reading now-a-days consists of Ent.ertainment Weekly, blogs, and the New York.er, that is when the babies don't rip it to shreds first. 

Oddly enough, I didn't read that much fiction in graduate school either.  One of my most vivid memories from those years is of sitting in my office, grading stacks of student papers, and over-hearing a senior faculty member advising a student who had come to him for a recommendation to graduate school.  "I like to read," said the student.  "Well," said the faculty member, "you won't get to do much of that in graduate school.  If you really like to read, I would go into business where you'll have the money to buy books and the time to read them."

Have I ever mentioned that the faculty members in my graduate program were tremendously jaded?  And not all that well paid?  Even as that remark angers me a bit now, I have to admit that it has the ring of truth.  If only he also added, "and don't have kids.  Or twins.  Don't have twins."

Number Two:  Doing the book meme also brought home to me how much I wanted to have a book club.  However, I'm not good at face-to-face things.  Actually, to be honest, I suck at them.  By the time I get to the end of the day, I'm so tired that it's hard to drag myself out of the house.  If I manage to make a meeting, I just sit there waiting for someone to talk to me.  Oddly, nobody ever much does.  Maybe its the hole in my jeans?  Or the fact that I still carry my diaper bag, which smells of wet cheerios and butt paste.  Maybe I need to give these things more time than I give them, but I just don't have it (time that is).

I figured that I'd just stick to what I'm good at.  This computer thing.  So, Cat and I are starting an ONLINE BOOK CLUB.  I think that Cat's really nice to add my name to it, seeing as she's done most of the work.  Please check it out.  Our first book is Restless, by William Boyd, and discussion begins December 2nd.  I have to say....I'm excited.

Where do we go from here?

In her Hump Day Hmm, Julie Pippert asks us to answer the question of "where I'd like to go next."  The answer can be in the form of almost any type of goal - social, personal, political, professional, or cultural.  Having already decided days ago that I would address this question, I find myself having tremendous difficulty pulling words down to my virtual page. 

The truth of the matter is that I once had passionate goals which I pursued almost to the exclusion of everything else.  I wanted to be a tentured professor in a small college town.  I wanted to be published and respected in my discipline.  I wanted a husband.  I wanted children.  I wanted a home.  I wanted a car and people whom I could respect as friends.  I wanted to be creative.

As I moved from my twenties into my mid-thirties and then into my late, late, late thirties,  I achieved or lost sight of most of these goals.  But in so doing, I think that I also shifted focus.  I would like to say that I'm more aware of social or environmental issues.  However, other than the fervent desire to see Bush out of office immediately, that doesn't seem to be the case.  Rather than moving further afield, my goals have shifted from having myself as their immediate concentration, to the boys.

I want to see the boys happy.  I want to see them educated and well-adjusted.  I'd love for them to acheive as I did, academically, but without the pressure that I felt to succeed.  It would be fun if they learned to enjoy sports and I can't wait for them to begin to read.

It's probably pretty natural for my goals to shift from myself to my children, but it doesn't feel natural at all.  In not having any goals for myself anymore, per se, it seems like I'm giving up. It also seems like I'm edging closer and closer to seeing things from my parent's point of view. Sure, I'd like to advance at work, but that's unlikely and I'm in a pretty good spot.  I'd also like to improve our marriage and have a house without popcorn ceilings.  But I don't want these things desperately, anymore.

Not like the things that I want for the boys.

It's tricky, this having goals for other people.  I think that it's good, in a way.  I've seen too many of my friends and children of my friends stumble without some sense of the future to guide them.  But it's also frightening to want so much for somebody else and not to know where to draw the line implementing those desires.   I suppose, as the boys get older, that they will let me know and I, hopefully, will listen.

Wheel of Fortune

As a medievalist, I found the "Wheel of Fortune" game show slightly amusing.  A frequently used image in medieval art and literature, the wheel depicted fortune's impartial operation.  Those who were up at the top of the wheel would soon be down at the bottom regardless of their efforts while those at the bottom could be thrown up to the top at a moment's notice.  Nothing could be done about any of it.

I booked our Christmas flights to Florida today.  Doing so made me think of both my sister, whom we see every Christmas, and the Wheel of Fortune.

She got easily pregnant right around the same time that G. and I were told that our only option for conception would be IVF.  As she went through pregnancy, we went through the failure of our first IVF and the stress of our second.  She had her baby about two months before we found out that we had gotten pregnant. 

I have to admit, that I was not easy to talk to during that year.  Really.  And that was if you could get me on the phone.  Most often, I'd tell G. that I was out.  I wouldn't pick up and, if a message was left, I wouldn't ring back.   As hard as I tried, I just couldn't do anything differently.  Maybe some people are able to handle infertility gracefully.  I was not one of them.  I was jealous, angry, and cold most of the time. 

My sister delivered her baby, who weighed just under four pounds, at 38 weeks.  She wasn't an easy baby.  She cried and cried and cried.  Giving her food didn't help, it just made her cry harder.  A pediatrician married to a pediatrician, my sister didn't know what to do and how to help her child.  In many respects, she still doesn't known.  My niece has been through every test imaginable and, despite knowing that she digests food slowly, none of the experts can put their fingers on why she doesn't eat.  At two and 1/2, my sister's baby tips the scales at just above 20 pounds. 

I don't know how it feels to be my sister.  I thought about it, though, last Christmas when my parents oohed and ahhed over Hen's enthusiastic reception of the sweet potatoes.  My niece threw them on distainfully the floor without eating a bite.  And my sister just sat there, looking.

I know that my sister has been through everything, has tried everything, so it's not like I can help when I see her for Christmas.  I can no more pretend that the boys don't like to eat than my sister could pretend that she wasn't pregnant.  I guess all I can do is not make a big deal of it and focus instead on all the strides my niece has made in other areas.  It's hard, though, and I wish that I could do more. 

The Difference between Dog Treats and Gummy Bears

We've been working on the difference between food and not food with the boys.  Cheese, banannas, and crackers are all food.  Dirt, twigs, mangled pumpkin stems and chalk are not food.  One can be eaten and used as fuel for a growing body.  The other is gross.

A closely related cousin of this difference, and a much finer point to grasp, is that people have one type of food and dogs have another type of food.  Dogs can eat people food, although it is not encouraged, but people cannot eat dog food.  That, is also gross.   

We had multiple opportunities to practice this difference today as I gave Ty-baby some treats to share with the dog.  I thought that he had the idea down when I turned my eyes from him, turning them back only to find him dribbling a dark brown substance and trying to feed the dog a gummy bear.

While doing the laundry from my trip this weekend, I felt myself fingering a fuzzy fraying of fabric.  Looking closely, I saw that there was a one-inch hole right under the seat of my jeans.  I've seen those holes before.  The dog chews them when I'm lazy enough to leave my jeans on the floor where she can reach them.  However, the jeans had spent the weekend in the laundry basket.  They must have gotten the hole before the trip, which means I flew about 4,000 miles with my ass flapping in the breeze and was too tired or jet-lagged to notice.

Nice.

Maybe dog food would have been better.  On the second thought, no.  Probably not.

Business Trip

I'm in Vegas until tomorrow on business.  G. hates Vegas, in fact, he summarizes the city by saying that it has "too much crap."  On the other hand, I like Vegas.  The energy, the noise, the lights, invigorate me.  However, Vegas is like any other city in that it's hard to manage on your own.

I try, though.

I grabbed a book and arrived early to eat at one of the restaurants at the Wynn.  I got a good seat, right by the waterfall, ordered a glass of wine and tipped big.  Later, I walked down the promenade when a shoe display caught my eye.  A tasteful bronze plaque by the door read "Manolo Blahnik"

I went in.

I looked around and picked up one pair, then another.  When a sales lady approached, I asked if we were allowed to try on the shoes (oh my God, I'm such an idiot).  She said, "sure!"  She brought out a patent leather pair in my size (40 1/2).  And I tried them on.

I have to tell you.  They were gorgeous and walkable, even with the 4 inch heels. 

Of course, I couldn't do it.  I mean, they were much too expensive for shoes, but it was fun just to have them on my feet.  I was glad that I tried them on, and glad that I ended up in Vegas on this trip.  G. and the twins are very far away, but I'll be seeing them tomorrow.  For tonight, it was lovely to have a night on my own.

Made Up Words

Every family has them.   

Made-up words that carry meaning when used within the family but mean nothing when used in anyone else's company.  It seems sometimes that G. and I have more than our fair share of these words.  Yet, since we've had the babies, one word has trumped all others in the frequency of its use.

That word is mung.

G. claims he got the term from the "Wayne's World" sketch on Saturday Night Live, where it was listed as one of the worst top five things to get in your Halloween bag.  However, he revamped the term to fit his own circumstances.  In G's world, mung refers to any type of dirt or substance produced by the babies.  Except poo.  Poo is still called poo.  But drool, snot, food, milk, and anything else is mung.

The word is endlessly versatile. It can be used as a noun as in, "could you get that mung on Ty's chin?"  The verb form has also become quite popular.  After spotting a large wet spot on his shirt after being hugged by Hen, G. will exclaim: "He munged me!" 

Curious about the real origins of the word, I looked it up on Wikipedia which defined mung as computer jargon for making "repeated changes which individually may be reversible, yet which ultimately result in an unintentional irreversible destruction of large portions of the original item." 

I read this definition out loud to G. who didn't quite get the connection between the way we use mung and this somewhat formal definition of it.  I explained it to him.  "Read the definition," I said, "and then think of our carpet."

He understood it right away.

So, I'm curious.  What are your words? 

Book Talk

I don't have much to say, having just spent a brain-draining, exhausting, but completely enjoyable Saturday chasing the boys around the outside bits of our city's children's museum.  I thought that I'd just do this meme that I saw earlier today over at the Painted Maypole. 

Basically, the meme involves taking the top 106 unread books from Library Thing and indicate those that you've read (bold).  I've left off "didn't finish" because I'm strange about finishing books and also "are on your bookshelf" because I constantly purge my books.  There's more, but because I can't resist making some order of these seemingly random 106 books (other than a whole bunch of people never read them), I created my own categories:

Stuck With Out Of Sheer Literary or Academic Obligation
Anna Karenina
Crime and Punishment
The Name of the Rose
Don Quixote
Moby Dick
Ulysses
A Tale of Two Cities
The Brothers Karamazov
War and Peace
Vanity Fair
Great Expectations (I really don't like Dickens)
The Grapes of Wrath
1984
Tess of the D'Urbervilles
Olver Twist
Guilliver's Travels
The Scarlet Letter
David Copperfield

Read for Class (Reasons Why I Became an English Major)
Catch-22
Wuthering Heights
The Odyssey
Pride and Prejudice
Jane Eyre
The Iliad
Emma
Mrs. Dalloway
The Canterbury Tales
The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Middlemarch
Frankenstein
The Inferno
Sense and Sensibility
Mansfield Park
To the Lighthouse
The Sound and the Fury
Beloved
Lolita
Persuasion
The Aeneid

Stumbled Upon and Later Assigned for My Own Class
One Hundred Years of Solitude
The Poisonwood Bible

Read Because I've Read Everything by Tolkien and Atwood
The Silmarillion
The Blind Assassin
The Hobbit

Never Heard of it Outside of this List
Guns, Germs and Steel
American Gods
Quicksilver
Anansi Boys
Angels & Demons
A People's History of the US
Cyrptonomicon
Neverwhere
A Short History of Nearly Everything
Eats, Shoots & Leaves
Collapse
Cloud Atlas
The Confusion
Freakonomics

Books I Am Alone in Loathing
The Time Traveller's Wife
The Kite Runner
The Corrections
Angela's Ashes

Books I Haven't Read and Wouldn't Mind Reading
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Reading Lolita in Tehran
The Satanic Verses
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay

Books I Haven't Read and Have No Intention of Reading
The Count of Monte Cristo
A Clockwork Orange
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The Prince
Dubliners
Oryx and Crake: a novel
Northanger Abbey
On the Road
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Gravity's Rainbow
The Three Musketeers
Foucault's Pendulum

Books I Read Too Young to Fully Understand
Atlas Shrugged
The Fountainhead
The Catcher in the Rye
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Books that Made Me Sad I Don't Belong to a Book Club
Memoirs of a Geisha
Middlesex
Life of Pi
Wicked
The Historian
Love in the Time of Cholera
Les Miserables
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime (wow!!)
The God of Small Things (double wow!!)
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Slaughterhouse-Five

Just Read Because I Read Alot
Dracula
Brave New World
Dune
A Confederacy of Dunces
The Mists of Avalon
Watership Down
In Cold Blood
Treasure Island
The Once and Future King

The Bug Bites Back

Ty-baby has been driving us to distraction.

His favorite thing to do, when angry, is to grab fist-fulls of Hen's hair and pull.... hard.  As Hen breaks down into heart-broken sobs, Ty-baby laughs.  It's quite a reaction he gets, too, as any adult near the vicinity hurries over to pry Ty-baby's hands from his brother's head. 

We've tried everything to stop Ty's behavior. 

We've said, "no."  We've said, "gentle to brother."  We've tried to intercept Ty-baby before he can grab Hen's hair.  We've tried ignoring Ty while lavishing attention on his screaming brother.  We've cut Hen's hair really short in hopes that Ty-baby will have trouble latching on to it.  In desperation, G. actually gave Ty's hair a little pull so he could see how it felt.

Nothing has worked.

Until today when Ty launched himself quickly toward Hen-bug, grabbed his hair and pulled him to the floor.  Hen-bug started crying. 

And so did Ty.

Hen-bug, who never bites, had latched onto Ty-baby's foot with his teeth. 

He actually bit him rather hard.  Hard enough to warrant Bactine and a band-aid.

For about an hour or two after the incident, though, Ty stayed far away from Hen.  Whenever Hen came near him with a toy or anything else, Ty would move away.  He stayed near the nanny and didn't even respond when Hen would come over and gently pat him. 

We haven't had another hair-pulling incident since.

Not a Drop to Drink

I recycle.  I saw An Inconvenient Truth and even went to the advertised website to gauge my carbon footprint.  Without flights taken for work, my footprint is a dainty, tiny little thing.   Add those flights, and I’m bigfoot.

I try to be mindful about environmental issues, but I’m not really tuned in.  I have no idea what’s going on at any sort of legal level and never even considered taking on the expense of purchasing a hybrid vehicle.  The environment didn't worry me on a daily basis as I just assumed that eventually people would band together and take care of it.  That is, until this summer.

Every summer, we flirt with drought for a few weeks.  It gets dry.  Folks are advised to stop washing their cars.  You can only water your lawn in the morning and on even numbered days.  We do these things or don’t do them, and then Fall comes.  Rain falls and things get green for a few weeks before they get brown as winter arrives.

This summer, however, has been different.  Half the state has been classified as experiencing exceptional or extreme drought; we’re currently experiencing severe drought.  It’s drier than I’ve ever seen it with streams disappearing and whole areas of the lake near our house drying up.  The leaves that we pick up crumble at the touch.

Our neighbor’s lawn, however, is a beautiful shade of green.

On the other side, we hear the sprinklers going all day long.

The lawns surrounding the mall are gorgeous.  When we drive out to the corporate area, we find ourselves in the middle of hugely beautiful green areas and banks of thirsty flowers.   

As I’ve said before, we don't water our lawn more out of laziness than anything else, but it’s now on its way to being considerably dead.  Because the lawn was a $7,000 investment in our home, G. called about getting sprinkler system. 

Three of the four companies are booked ‘til next year.  “It’s the drought,” said one of the folks, “people are worried this could happen next year and want to invest now.”  The guy offered to pencil us in for next May.

Hmmm…..there’s going to be another drought.  Let’s plan to use more water.

I thought that it would get better in the Fall, but here we are in October and still no rain. 

The state keeps increasing the warning levels, but there are still green lawns on all sides, which makes our lawn look even worse than it would alone.  I would love to say that our brown lawn doesn't bother me; however, it does, but not more than the green lawn.

***************************************

On the blog front, you'll notice I'm back to myself, but I've found a new name with DD's help and will be changing shortly. 

Makeover

My favorite episode of America's Next Top Model (ANTM) has always been the makeover.  I always enjoy guessing who's going to get the dramatically short haircut and who's going to go ballistic over it.  ANTM never fails to disappoint. 

I've never done anything as drastic as cutting off all or most of my hair, although I did get a fake tan once, so I was completely unprepared for the feeling of terror when removing my blog template this afternoon.  I've been feeling a little discontent with this space for some time and it's bumpy road from infertility blog to infertile with children blog.   Rather than remove it entirely, I impulsively decided to change it's appearance.

I'm going to be creating ordering a new header soon, but in order to do that, I think that I'm going to have to come up with a new name.  Unfortunately, I'm not very good with names.  I changed my thoughts about Ty-baby's name about ten times before he was born.  Had he come even a week earlier, he would have been Nicholas, and had G. not put his foot down, he would have been Samuel.

I've come up with a few name but always seem to discard them for one reason or another.  Suz's Blog?  Too ordinary.  Twinster?  Sounds like a radio station.  Work At Home Mom?  It's what I am; however, it lacks a certain zing.  I could do something with the Southern perspective, but I'm not sure that this space is particularly Southern.  In fact, I would like to take the opporunity to mention that 82 degrees Farenheit is completely inappropriate for October and I would like to order some colder weather, now, please.

I know it's a pretty personal thing, but any thoughts?

One of those Days

I was going to spend my "lunch hour" tackling this Wednesday's Hump Day HMMM, but life interrupted in the form of a phone call from my nanny.

Yes, my nanny works downstairs.  I was working upstairs.  She called from our home phone to my cell. 

It turns out that she had to drive to a town two hours away in order to renew the contract on their rental car.  Her husband had the forms to do it but didn't fill them out.  In order to avoid late charges, she had to physically turn in the car and, presumably, rent a new one.  This was a real emergency for them, so I just told her to go.

Last week, our neighbors who also have twins, had an issue where their nanny needed to spend two days in the hospital with her husband.  The solution?  Well, he was out of town and she had depositions for an important trial, so their kids came over to our house and our nanny watched all four kids.  Our nanny got some extra money and our kids had two nice, long playdates, but we didn't even get a phone call. 

I'm glad that we could help out; however, a quick "thank you" from the neighbors would have gone a long way with me.  They never called us.  They never contacted us at all.  The entire thing was worked out through the nannies.  And, yes, the neighbors knew all about the arrangements.

Faced with an afternoon of work and no nanny, I should have just told her to call the neighbor's nanny, get the okay, and walk the kids down the street.  But that's just not me.   I have trouble asking people for favors and that counts double with people whom I'm not sure that I like.

I ended up playing with the twins all afternoon and will be working into the night as a result.  However, the whole situation has left a bad taste in my mouth - one that I'm not entirely sure how to rinse out. 

Julie Pippert Interviews Me

I know, right?  The Hump-Day hmmmm maven herself.  I was so excited to get these questions:

1. What do you think is your greatest parenting challenge and why?

Right now, it’s simply finding the time to spend with the twins.  Looking at my day, I find that I spend about ten hours online, two hours watching TV with the computer on my lap, and about two hours in the company of the twins.  Out of those two hours, I probably spend about an hour actually with them.  And it’s hard.  I didn’t get married until age 34.  I had the twins at age 37. 

I’m used to and quite comfortable with being alone.  Before time slips away and they no longer want to be with me, I need to devote time to the twins.  And when I say, devote time, I mean actually make the boys my focus.  Never do I have more to do than when I’m supposed to be giving the twins my undivided attention.  Email.  Taking to G.  Making phone calls. Cleaning.  Fixing dinner.  The list goes on and on. 

We're not talking a lot of time.  But more.

2.   Tell us about someone from high school who you never really liked, someone who always bothered, annoyed, or similar. Now, imagine, you run into this person and immediately you realize he/she has not changed at all because he/she does the very thing that always bothered you. What do you do?

I remember emotions being so intense in high school.  There were people I hated, literally wished would fall off the face of the planet, and those that I completely adored.  Seen through this lens, I think I would have a tough time even recognizing anyone from those years.  If I did, I’d probably beat a fast path in the opposite direction and, if I didn't, I'd certainly want to.

3.   When you hear about someone going through infertility, what do you do? Do you share your own experience, feel any obligation, etc.?

I feel a huge obligation to other infertile women, especially since having the twins.  I wish I had a large sign reading: “These twins are IVF twins.”  But, of course, I don’t. 

If infertility does come up in conversation, I mention that I had my twins through IVF, but I don’t say anything else.  And it’s an enormous struggle.  I want to share everything that happened.  I want to give advice, but I’ve learned to be quiet, be still, and, when there’s talking to be done, let someone else do it.  I've learned to listen, instead.

4. What lead you to your current line of work?

I develop academic programs for colleges and universities.  It’s perfect work for me because I work with academics and academic institutions, but I’m not of them. I was recruited out of graduate school, when things were looking pretty darn bleak for English Ph.D.’s.  I eventually finished my dissertation in medieval studies, focusing on representations of clothing, but I’ve never seriously thought about going back into academia.

5. How well do you communicate, verbally, visually, physically, and telepathically?

Verbally and visually, I’m good.  I’m a nightmare physically.  I would be voted off first on Dancing with the Stars, probably amid much laughter.  I actually thought that Britney’s dance at the VMA’s wasn’t bad.  And I’m still working on reading minds.

So, let me know at bakerswife2@yahoo.com if you’d like me to interview you.  Please let me know as I’d love to do it and would be sad (really, truly) if nobody replied.