If Its Friday, It Must Be Blog Time

Cloudy skies outside my window, a new pile of nearly sixty papers to grade, and the sound of voices from the party office--yes, its Friday and I'm blogging.

Its been a week of highs and lows.  I've mostly been focused on a horrible paper I had to write, comparing Pierre Bourdieu's Distinction with Sven Beckert's Empire of Cotton.  Trust me when I tell you, these books have absolutely nothing in common.  So, I stressed and stressed and stressed, seeking something to write about them that would make sense.  I'm not sure I succeeded in the sense-making part but I did come up with five pages.  Dr. Phillips will have the last word on this, I'm afraid.

I'm coming more and more to rely on my classmates here for support.  It was Chantalle who pointed out the convenience of the nearby Chipotle.  With just two short extra blocks, Chipotle can be found on the walk between Dunford Hall and the lot where I park my car.  For just a two-minute ride to her on-campus housing, Chantalle is a ready companion when I'm needing a Chipotle fix.  Of course, I miss my "school brats" from Sacramento, Matty, Alex, and Vanessa, when I chow down on that chicken burrito bowl, but, damn, it tastes so good!  

It was Chantalle as well who came with me to the Black History Matters presentation of the documentary Slavery by Another Name.  Free pizza was provided by the department, while Chantalle supplemented our dinner with Diet Cokes and M&Ms.  The film was a fascinating look into the practices of convict leasing and debt peonage in the South following the Civil War and into the twentieth century.  Chantalle got to look good in front of her advisor, who was one of the coordinators of the film showing, and we both looked good to History Department head, Dr. Freeburg, who was also in attendance.  Score!

On Wednesday night, it was dinner in the student union with another group of colleagues.  This was Tess, Max, Nolan, and Dr. Hutton (but call him Bob--he insists).  We all happened to be in our offices on the fifth floor here in Dunford when 5:00 p.m. rolled around.  So we went to dinner together across the street--and I discovered a Panda-Express-by-another-name.  Delicious orange chicken and steamed rice, along with excellent conversation, just put me in the best mood.

O.K., this blog seems to be a lot about food.  And, I'm eating crackers, turkey, and cheese while I'm writing.  Note to family:  I am not starving in Tennessee.  Oh, and let's not forget my trip to Buttermilk Sky pie shop this week.  Their I-40 special pie, chocolate, pecans, and coconut, was heaven on earth.

I took some pix of the party office this week, as promised in an earlier blog.  This is the best place on campus to vent when you're feeling knocked around.

That's Jay looking at the white board, which features a picture of a panda bear and a brilliant drawing of Donald Trump--with blue hair.

Hanging out in the party office has been especially necessary this week, as I recently had an experience that I can only compare to the martyrdom of Saint Lawrence.  Saint Lawrence, you devoted readers may recall from the visit Heidi and I made to his church in Rome, was martyred by being placed on a grill-like surface and, well, bar-b-qued to death.  Swear to God, a similar thing happened to me this week when I innocently confessed that I did not understand how enslaved people helped bring about the American Revolution.  Here's how I felt while being "corrected" on my poor knowledge of history....

As for today, I think only my sister will understand what happened to me.  I was walking from my second discussion group to my third, happily talking with one of my students who was walking in the same direction.  One minute we're walking and talking, the next I'm slow-motion dropping to my knees.  Just like on the K Street Mall, just like in Las Vegas--I fell over my own damn feet.  To Kathleen and Marijo, who understood, along with Tricia and I, that you are not grown up until you don't have skinned knees, I can only confess that I have regressed quite a bit.

Of course, I'm fine.  Those slow-motion falls hurt nothing but my stockings and my pride.  And my student was so nice and concerned for me.  I'm really starting to be fond of some of these kids who do their best to participate in discussion section and then do not laugh (like Tricia surely would have) when I tumble to the ground.

So, that's all that's going on here in Knoxville.  This weekend, I'm hoping the NASCAR race won't be rained out in Charlotte.  I'm less than hopeful of the Vols in their football battle against those damn Georgia Bulldogs.  My fridge is stocked with Diet Coke, and I still have two little pies waiting for me.

Damn, it really is all about the food....