PTSD

Random things that are not quite a blog post

1. Tomorrow, I will be officially done with the Policy Place. This is one of those cases where it’s best for all concerned that this was a short–term contract. As it was, it was a close call as to whether I would quit or get fired before the project finished. Let’s just call it a learning experience, during which I have learned that policy is not, in fact, my thing. Same goes for copyediting, and for footnote checking.*

Am I pleased that I got to work on the project? Yes. Is the final result interesting and worthwhile? Yes. Were the people nice and friendly and dedicated? Yes. Will I ever sign up for this sort of job again? Hell, no.

2. It is perhaps not coincidental that I’ve slept better since Monday (the day I really finished the work I needed to do at Policy Place) than I have in months.

3. I really do like teaching the high school kids about public health. No, really. It’s fun. And they’re much brighter than they should be, which makes it even more entertaining because they keep me honest (no bluffing an answer, not when they can go look it up) and keep me interested in the discussions.

Also, the University has chalkboards on three walls of the rooms. This suits my teaching style, also known as the “Flit Around The Room Because I Keep Forgetting That I’m Supposed To Be An Adult” method of imparting knowledge to the unwashed masses.

4. I do not like the schedule of 7:30am class sessions. This was apparently dreamed up by crazy people, who do not understand that my preferred relationship to dawn is as a nice, bright ending to a loud, drunken night out. This whole sleeping and then waking up to birds chirping experience is not one that I want to repeat. Ever.

My annoyed recognition that early morning is not my best time is not made easier by the approach that teenagers take to the same time period, i.e., sleeping at their desks at every available moment. Thank god I don’t lecture much, so they at least need to be coherent enough for class discussion.

5. I’m strangely unmoved by the new BNL single, “Easy.” It’s just okay, “Wind It Up” is better, but might not make it into precious iPod space.

“Home” is already sliding up the iTunes play count. I think I’ve got it memorized. I want to learn to play the guitar so that I can play this song. Please, please, someone turn this into a fanvid, so that I can watch it. How about BF/RK? Wouldn’t that be nice?**

6. There’s a special circle of hell reserved for the designers of the Beltway. Or at least I hope there is, because whoever decided to put curves in that slow traffic even when there’s nothing but open road, and not build enough lanes so that people are forced to drive 5mph in 95 degree heat with no A/C deserves to have a miserable eternity.

Also, white guys driving red Mazda Miatas? Playing Eminem loudly through your tinny car stereo does not make you a badass. It makes you sad. It makes me sad. It makes people who have never met you sad to know that you exist in the world. Please don’t make me live with the knowledge that somewhere, out there in the realm of possibility, there is someone who would be caught dead doing this on a Wednesday afternoon. This is not something you should be doing.

And if you’re doing it while sitting next to my car, in stopped traffic, when I’m trying to listen to the Headstones? I hope you choke on your overpriced iced mocha froufrou yuppie drink. I hope your Bluetooth*** cellphone attachment makes your ears tan funny.

I hope you one day learn to appreciate (at the wrong end of a baseball bat, if necessary) the bittersweet wonder that is “Blue Tattoo,” with its combination of the great Hugh Dillon and the otherwise fantastic Swamp Baby into a group that is everything that went wrong with punk and yet still able to make me consider angry guitar smashing as a viable career. ****

7. Okay, maybe I’m still a little cranky. In this case, though, all right-thinking music fans would agree with me.

*Of course, I already knew that footnote checking was not something I do well. This is because the idea of footnote citation style makes my skin crawl and my eyes bleed. I would eat glass before I would go through my first year of law review again. It’s possible that the Bluebook is to blame for my decision to go to grad school rather than get a job as a lawyer.

In short, there’s a good reason that I’ve been missing from the blog for the past month or so. It didn’t seem fair to subject anyone else to my nasty mood swings and fury at the writers of the Chicago Manual of Style.

** Yes, you must use the live version. With or without the applause. Yes, this is the fangirl moment that has come to define my posts. You got off lightly this time. Count your blessings that it wasn't a long analysis of the use of exterior spaces to denote personal growth in due South. Because that was one way this could have gone.

I’m serious about the fanvid thing. I’m not above begging, here. Come on, it’s perfect. Cars, relationships ending, another one starting, and it’s all about going back to where you belong. I can’t believe someone hasn’t already done it.

*** Tell me, please, why MS Word knows to capitalize Bluetooth but insists that neorealism is a figment of my imagination?

**** That sentence? Evidence enough that copyediting is not the job for me.

posted by Elizabeth @ 1:02 AM