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Archive for December 4th, 2008

Music Meme – lifted from here.

  • Put your IPod or MP3 player on shuffle.
  • For each question, press the next button to get your answer
  • YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
  • Tag 10 friends who might enjoy doing the game as well as the person you got the note from.

Not tagging because I’m disobedient like that…. but play along if you like (and let me know).

IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY?
Superwoman (Alicia Keyes)

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Pullin’ Back the Reins (k.d. lang)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Choux Pastry Heart (Corrine Bailey Rae)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
I Need You (Alicia Keyes)

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Three Days (k.d. lang)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Trail of Broken Hearts (k.d. lang)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Work in Progress (Growing Pains) (Mary J. Blige)

WHAT IS 2+2?
Mr. Radio (Chrisette Michele)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
A Little More You (Little Big House)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Mama Knew Love (Anthony Hamilton)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Float (Anthony Hamilton)

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Be and Be Not Afraid (Tracy Chapman)

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Stay the Night (Mariah Carey)

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Change (Tracy Chapman)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
The Air That I Breathe (k.d. lang)

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Blood and Fire (Indigo Girls)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Promise Me (Luther Vandross)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Golden (Chrisette Michele)

WHAT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Luck in My Eyes (k.d. lang)

HOW WILL YOU DIE?
My Old Addition (k.d. lang)

WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Here and Now (Luther Vandross)

WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
So Amazing (Luther Vandross)

WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
It’s Like That (Mariah Carey)

WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Better Love (Luther Vandross)

WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
I’m Fine (Patty Larkin)

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
The Joker (k.d. lang)

WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Cornbread, Fish and Collard Greens (Anthony Hamilton)

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Good Girl (Chrisette Michele)

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End of semester blues

This is the last week of the semester; in a few moments I will go to my last class. The holiday parties have started today – profs treating students, students bringing treats (I recognize some of this a mutual bribing by way of evaluations and grades, but some of it is genuine fondness for one another. I’m grateful for that). I have had the sweetness of several students telling me today that one or another of my classes has been their favorite. Cynical me wonders if they are buttering me up, or if I perhaps did not push them hard enough. But mostly I enjoy hearing it. They don’t have to say it. It’s nice to be appreciated.

While I look forward to a break from the never ending drill of prep, presentation, grading, sprinkled generously throughout with shoddy student work and bogus student excuses, the truth is I mourn the end of every semester. When I first started teaching I was totally unprepared for what happens at the end of the term, and happens hard at the end of the academic year – they leave. I try hard to model what some of my favorite profs (undergrad and graduate school) did very skillfully – creating an atmosphere of community while doing hard work. I hope I succeed at it as far as students are concerned; as for me, I miss the heck out of them once classes end. Add to that the fact that in this part of the country, the sun ceases to shine round about October and only emerges again to a consistent degree in late March or April. No students and no sun? Double ugh.

Off to class.

p.s. – Just because I’m writing this sappy post about missing students etc now doesn’t mean I reserve the right to gnash my teeth and say bad words when I’m grading their papers next week. Just saying.

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Oh, the horror!

Actually, I don't see what all the fuss is about...

Actually, I don't see what all the fuss is about...

It seems the latest disaster to strike the world is not the trampling of a Wal Mart employee on Black Friday, nor the country’s economic crisis, nor any of a number of truly horrifying things I could dwell on this fine day.

Because you see, Beyonce dared to show the world her stubbly pits. She is now this nation’s shame. It’s a fashion faux pas. She http://rnbdirt.com/beyonce-armpit-hair-spoils-cadillac-records-premiere/14146/ the Cadillac Records premiere. She’s nasty. I actually heard this on the radio news this morning. We haven’t had a scare like this since Julia Roberts showed her hairy pits and the world stopped spinning on it’s axis…. oh, wait – the world kept turning.

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Sarcasm aside, I have no quarrel with women and girls who rid themselves of underarm and leg hair. To each her own. I, however, don’t shave. I don’t see the point: it’s uncomfortable, I find it to be both a waste of time and money and seriously? Good grooming has nothing to do with whether or not one shaves her armpit and leg hair. Again, I’m not on a crusade to tell women not to do it. But could we hairy women get some of the same respect?

And maybe it would be helpful for us to remember (or learn the first time) that the reason shaving pits became a cultural norm associated with cleanliness, good grooming and femininity has nothing to do with any of that (because I maintain that I am clean, well groomed and have my own brand of femininity) but has everything to do with commerce – selling razors and depilatories to women, and along with that selling a particular view of beauty and real womanhood.

Via The Straight Dope

…..Pete Cook of Chicago has sent me a 1982 article from the Journal of American Culture by Christine Hope bearing the grand title “Caucasian Female Body Hair and American Culture.”

The gist of the article is that U.S. women were browbeaten into shaving underarm hair by a sustained marketing assault that began in 1915. (Leg hair came later.) The aim of what Hope calls the Great Underarm Campaign was to inform American womanhood of a problem that till then it didn’t know it had, namely unsightly underarm hair.

To be sure, women had been concerned about the appearance of their hair since time immemorial, but (sensibly) only the stuff you could see. Prior to World War I this meant scalp and, for an unlucky few, facial hair. Around 1915, however, sleeveless dresses became popular, opening up a whole new field of female vulnerability for marketers to exploit.

Read more here.

Ay yi yi. Are there not more important things to get worked up over? Or is it really that culturally important to police women’s bodies? Yeah, I know. OK.

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