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Posts Tagged ‘Bright ideas’

I’ve been so slack. Unwatched on our DVR right now: the second seasons of “Tough Love” and “Tool Academy.” How could I have been so lax? That darn dissertation proposal has kept me from my regular dosage of trashy reality TV.

I did catch “Hoarders” last night, though. You may remember that one of the graduate students in my Persuasive Writing wrote a paper trying to convince me to stop watching “Hoarders.” The argument: The people need help instead of a starring role in gawker TV. So I should stop providing an audience.

Fat chance, Elisa.

If a woman is going to reveal to the nation that she has been living in four-foot-high stacks of used adult diapers because her plumbing has been broken for two years, then I’m going to watch (in horror, of course). Goats ate the back wall of a house to get at the trash inside? Let me get my popcorn.

House of Hoarders

In exchange for letting us gasp at their lives, the hoarders do get help from the show. Yes, it may be limited and come at a price, but it is more than they had before. And I think the show is raising a consciousness that some “pack rats” may actually have a bigger problem.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some TV to watch — while I clean out that hall closet …

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What is the DEAL with folks in Savannah? People are acting like there has never been a strong storm before. Closing school? SERIOUSLY? Now, the school my kids attend has a bunch of trailers, so I can kind of see their point in that case. But pretty much all schools have been closed since noon and it is just now starting to rain in the ‘Ham.

"The sky is falling!"

"The sky is falling!"

Yes, there is a tornado WATCH in effect.

Yes, there will be strong winds, heavy rain and the potential for flooding in low-lying areas.

But that is every afternoon in the summer, no?

In fact, the radar picture looks very similar to stuff we see all the time.

I’m not particularly worried, and I’m a meteorologist. I also play one on TV!

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Panic + resolve

My dissertation proposal was due today, the day of my self-imposed deadline. However, I sent it to my committee chair on Wednesday for feedback. I don’t want to work on it anymore until I get that feedback. I really don’t want to work on it anymore, period, but that’s not possible.

This is what my dining room table looked like the day I stopped working on the proposal:

Dining room table/work space/Hell on Earth

I switched gears yesterday from eating everything in sight to rereading everything on my theory reading list.

That list includes “Mass Communication Theory,” which is a struggle. Also on the list:

Herbert Gans, “Deciding What’s News”
Todd Gitlin, “The Whole World is Watching”
Edward Epstein, “News from Nowhere”
David Manning White, “The ‘Gatekeeper'”
Ben Bagdikian, “The Media Monopoly”
Elisabeth Noelle-Neumann, “Return to the Concept of Powerful Mass Media”

All of this is in preparation for the start of the comprehensive exams tomorrow. From Tuesday to Friday, for three hours a day, I will be holed up at the library at University of South Carolina-Beaufort (South campus) writing my little heart out. If (when?) I pass and successfully defend my proposal, I will be A.B.D. That stands for “all but dissertation,” but it might as well stand for “all but dead.”

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I guess this sign is supposed to tell folks that the faucet is on a sensor, but it makes no sense as written. It’s funny, though. I took this image somewhere in Shanghai last year.

My reaction to the photo is similar to what I’m doing today: trying to make sense out of the vast amount of communication research that deals with media ethics and the journalistic decision-making process.

Or it could be a reminder that my life is flushing down the dissertation toilet.

Sigh.

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While I enjoyed teaching each of my four classes this quarter, the one that affected me the most on a personal basis was Persuasive Writing. In the final persuasive research papers, the graduate students — all  writers of promise — encouraged me to stop watching “Hoarders,” camp in national parks, support art funding in schools, lobby for a three-point harness on airplanes, write my representatives in support of the Alzheimer’s Breakthrough Act of 2009, join the bone marrow registry, and go vegan.

One affected me so much that I’m doing research today. Can you guess which one?

Here’s a hint: Think about my blog.

Yes, I’m considering veganism. Or at least a more cruelty-free lifestyle.

All of the papers were persuasive, but only one made me consider each bite of food, every meal I prepare, and all my grocery-shopping trips. I don’t really object to eating meat in general, but I have always objected to the American meat industry and the horrible way animals “live” and die on factory farms. I don’t eat beef in America, in fact, for this reason.

This morning, I eyed the Thanksgiving turkey in the freezer and felt sad and guilty. I fed Trish and thought of the cellophaned breasts in the refrigerator. I threaded Dominic’s belt through the loops on his pants and thought of milking Rosebud in the second grade.

And now I’m wondering if this Web site is on the up and up.

Thanks, Austin Floyd.

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In addition to using Twitter and Facebook to communicate, I use social media to procrastinate. And with all the stuff hanging over my head, I’ve been socializing like crazy.

One of the entities I follow on Twitter is the AP Stylebook, of course. The good folks who maintain the account are running a contest. They want people to tweet their reasons for using the stylebook. The “best” answers win a Stylebook Online subscription.

It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

After considering many pithy responses, I decided on my go-to prop: the haiku. Here is my submission:

I use it daily
To torture writing students.
Cue evil laughter.

I didn’t know AP Stylebook retweeted my entry until I looked at my @ box and saw my post retweeted by a whole bunch of other people after the AP RT. That’s pretty cool. I hope I win …

My entry retweeted

and retweeted again

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My eating disorder

Here is a nasty little secret about me that few people know (until now, that is):

I find myself having crushes on particular edible items and losing my mind over these items until I make myself sick. And then my addiction is over.

So if I think something is yummy, I will go crazy, purchasing as many as I can find. Take, for example, my latest fixation: Utz chips.

It started with a bag of the crab chips (see related post), and then spread to the Grandma’s kettle ones. Who knows where it will end because I have found an enabler: my friend Terri. We flew to Baltimore together, but she stayed for a few more days to visit her parents.

Though I love to travel, I don’t like to pack and unpack, and I refuse to check bags. So I have to be careful if I shop. While in Baltimore, I did purchase a few things for friends and family, and thus did not have room to bring back any Utz. Plus, bags of chips take up a lot of room and crush easily. Packing = bad idea.

Terri and I concocted a plan: She and her mom would go to the grocery store and do a little shopping for Utz (with some Berger thrown in) and mail me the contraband. And I would pay her for parcels and postage.

This is the image she sent me yesterday:

Utz wonder wall

I almost fell down a flight of stairs at Arnold. Once I gained my composure, I placed my order. Here is part of what is on its way to my house:

Part of my care package

Thank you, Terri, for feeding my addiction.

No intervention necessary. I’m sure I’ll make myself sick, then move on to something else.

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Mystifying

The employees of the Inn at the Colonnade in Baltimore may be good at many things, but punctuation and spelling are clearly not on that list. I submit for your consideration three photos taken of the announcements on the hotel channel and one sign.

I understand that not everyone grasps grammar, spelling and punctuation. Fine. But don’t make that person in charge of writing up announcements and making signs.

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The best part about traveling is trying new things, especially local food. Who wants to eat at a chain restaurant when you are out of town? I remember one vacation with some extended family, and all they wanted to do was eat at Denny’s. Denny’s!

Utz Crab Chips

I’m in Baltimore for a SCAD info. session tomorrow. My friend Terri, who works in SCAD admission, is from Baltimore and she will be working the session too. We got in at 9:30 this morning and I’ve already had Maryland crab soup, Utz chips, Berger cookies, and Balto MärzHon from the Clipper City Brewing Company.

One thing I had been looking forward to since I found out I was coming on this trip is Ethiopian food. Terri and I go to New York together every six months and Ghenet Ethiopian restaurant is always on the menu. Well, “was.” When Eddie and I went in September, though, the restaurant was closed. As in “bars on the door and ‘for sale’ sign in the window” closed. I wept.

I think you either love the food or you absolutely don’t. The deal-breaker is usually the injera, which looks and feels like skin. I’m OK with that. You use the bread to pick up the food, which consists of mashy beans, cabbage, chicken, etc., all spicy and yummy. Top it off with honey wine, and life is good.

Terri

Terri prepares to dig in

I’m fat and happy, so I’d say it’s been a good day.

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My language peeve this week (so far) is the phrase “near miss,” as in:

“Drunk woman falls onto subway tracks and survives near miss”

My friend Merriam-Webster defines it in the following manner:

Main Entry: near miss
Function: noun
Date: 1940

1 a : a miss (as with a bomb) close enough to cause damage b : something that falls just short of success
2 a : a near collision (as between aircraft) b : close call

Folks, a “near miss” is a HIT. A “near hit” would be a welcome miss. Or “Hey there, buddy, that was close!” Or “Oh my, we barely missed being victims of a horribly disfiguring accident!” Or just “Good God!”

I’m not the only one who likes to argue this point. Check out the language corner portion of the Columbia Journalism Review.

But to save argument and confusion, doesn’t “close call” work just fine?

 

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