Yesterday, with as much grace as I could muster, I accepted yet another piece of fateful news at work.
I should back-up by explaining Tuesday our department gathered for a fateful unit restructuring meeting. I knew it was bad news when the director phoned to say she wanted to meet individually with me and the Academic Coordinator before the department meeting. No one else was requested for an individual meeting and I prepared myself for bad news.
She began with “K, this entire plan is dependent upon you being here working 80-100% from now until next September. If this is not your plan you need to tell me now because things are already in motion”. First, how unfair to say the restructuring of the department depends on me. Second, I should hear the proposal first so I can take consider the offer. What does one say, “Um, that plan will not provide any stability for the unit and I might decide to apply for other jobs instead”. I kept my mount shut and listened to the offer:
They give me another promotion (+) I will believe this when it happens
I keep the Summer Masters Program (+ and -) and nothing else
I get rid of the academic year LL.M. and its horrendous admissions process -Hallelujah! (+++)
In addition I get the 4-week Orientation program and nothing else (+ and -)
I get to work 80% Sept-May and 120% May-Aug. On Tuesday I was not happy with this plan but after looking at the positives I recognize it is a great improvement over what I went through last year and I am a big fan of working 10-5.
Wednesday the real blow came. I arrived at 10 and the news I receive (I have not even turned my computer on yet) is that my office has been sacrificed in the space war. I have been exiled to the smallest most remote office space in our department. If I can fit all my stuff into the new space (which I can’t). I will miss the huge window in my old office, through which I enjoy watching the three little cottontail bunnies who frolic in the grass outside.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
The Outrageous Pizza Heist
Last night we held a pizza party for the LL.M. students and their families at Steve’s Pizza in downtown Davis. We crammed a group of over 40 in the back room along with 14 large pizza’s. It was quite the sight. We were so numerous the restaurant actually ran out of glasses and was giving out clear plastic picnic cups to customers.
C and I were visiting after the party so I invited her to come join us for pizza. Near the end of the evening C, A (my assistant) and I were standing to one side of the room visiting with some of the Korean judges, I noticed a strange woman in a white shirt out of the corner of my eye. A moment later she came walking past me holding two pieces of pizza in a napkin. I watched her walk past dumbfounded then turned to C and A, “I think that woman took some of our pizza.” Sure enough we observed her circle around the table and take a seat at a booth inches from our table. With our six eyes on her she reaches to our table and takes another piece from the pizza tray. She startled our French LL.M. student, F, who is sitting right next to the dish. F glances at the three of us watching (by this time we are all staring down the lady) from across the room with a look of bemusement. When the woman indicates to the boy who materializes beside her that he should also take a piece from the tray F becomes concerned. Meanwhile my fellow observers and I are debating if we should say something to the woman and her son. We continue to stare and discuss as I notice a man in a red shirt standing against the wall nearby obviously taking stock of the large amount of pizza still available on our tables. Simultaneously the woman notices us and pulls a ten dollar bill out of her purse, says something to the boy and sends him away from the booth. I know she noticed us and I breath a sigh of relief thinking she is sending him to pay us for the pizza they stole. The boy stops to say something to the red-shirt man and proceeds to the counter to purchase drinks for the family. The man then circles the table. I rushed to the counter and asked for 6 boxes. There is a mad dash effort from C, A, myself, and several of the students (who have seen what is going on) to pack up all the pizza before the man sweeps in so the students can take the pizza home.
Defeated, and hopefully feeling guilty, the family exits the room (but not before checking out the pizza situations with other groups nearby). A reports the woman had the presence of mind to ask one of the students who exactly is in our group and what our party was for. She then made some off-hand comment about them joining the wrong group – lies and slander.
By this time we are all highly bemused. After everyone else has departed, C and I are standing at the counter so I can pay the bill when the birthday guest of a large party in the other room walks in to shouts of “Happy Birthday”. Right behind him I see the smiling bobbing head of the woman in white. I remark to C, “It looks like perhaps they really were with the wrong party”. However, as we exit I noticed the family is nowhere to be found. But, there they are seated with their drinks and empty napkins at a table outside waiting for their next unsuspecting victims.
C and I were visiting after the party so I invited her to come join us for pizza. Near the end of the evening C, A (my assistant) and I were standing to one side of the room visiting with some of the Korean judges, I noticed a strange woman in a white shirt out of the corner of my eye. A moment later she came walking past me holding two pieces of pizza in a napkin. I watched her walk past dumbfounded then turned to C and A, “I think that woman took some of our pizza.” Sure enough we observed her circle around the table and take a seat at a booth inches from our table. With our six eyes on her she reaches to our table and takes another piece from the pizza tray. She startled our French LL.M. student, F, who is sitting right next to the dish. F glances at the three of us watching (by this time we are all staring down the lady) from across the room with a look of bemusement. When the woman indicates to the boy who materializes beside her that he should also take a piece from the tray F becomes concerned. Meanwhile my fellow observers and I are debating if we should say something to the woman and her son. We continue to stare and discuss as I notice a man in a red shirt standing against the wall nearby obviously taking stock of the large amount of pizza still available on our tables. Simultaneously the woman notices us and pulls a ten dollar bill out of her purse, says something to the boy and sends him away from the booth. I know she noticed us and I breath a sigh of relief thinking she is sending him to pay us for the pizza they stole. The boy stops to say something to the red-shirt man and proceeds to the counter to purchase drinks for the family. The man then circles the table. I rushed to the counter and asked for 6 boxes. There is a mad dash effort from C, A, myself, and several of the students (who have seen what is going on) to pack up all the pizza before the man sweeps in so the students can take the pizza home.
Defeated, and hopefully feeling guilty, the family exits the room (but not before checking out the pizza situations with other groups nearby). A reports the woman had the presence of mind to ask one of the students who exactly is in our group and what our party was for. She then made some off-hand comment about them joining the wrong group – lies and slander.
By this time we are all highly bemused. After everyone else has departed, C and I are standing at the counter so I can pay the bill when the birthday guest of a large party in the other room walks in to shouts of “Happy Birthday”. Right behind him I see the smiling bobbing head of the woman in white. I remark to C, “It looks like perhaps they really were with the wrong party”. However, as we exit I noticed the family is nowhere to be found. But, there they are seated with their drinks and empty napkins at a table outside waiting for their next unsuspecting victims.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
I survived!
This was a trip unlike any other I have experienced. Saturday I had a lovely dinner at a corner café and walked around for a few hours before packing and heading to bed. To be safe I asked for a wake-up call Sunday morning at 6:30. Sadly as soon as the phone stopped ringing I went right back to bed and woke up 20 min before I needed to leave. A series of unfortunate occurrences resulted from this, along with the discomfort of having to sit on a plane for 10 hours after not having had a good shower that morning.
1. I got on the wrong metro – this NEVER happens and speaks to how tired I was.
2. I neglected to have breakfast
3. Totally disheveled
4. The hotel desk people held me up to say goodbye for a lengthy period
The one amazing thing was that in my groggy state I made it directly to the correct airline counter in record time, when I did not know where I was going or if I was even in the right terminal. I finally fed myself in the airport and sank into a large leather chair near my gate which smelled heavenly. Of course we boarded the plane early. Naively I thought my luck was changing. The deception continued, everyone was ecstatic about leaving early. As we boarded the flight attendant informed us that there were only 80 passengers on a plane with 214 seats. I had my choice between three seats to myself in the middle of the plane or two seats on the side next to the window. I opted for the window and settled down quite contently. It is a good thing we were all comfortable because we sat at the gate for two hours waiting for an electrical problem to be solved.
At length I arrived in Atlanta! It was wonderful to see L and B, especially since I have not had a chance to visit with them since their wedding. The weather was lovely. I wanted to kiss the ground when I landed. Monday L took me to see the Atlanta Historical Center, lovely, thought provoking, and entertaining. That evening for FHE we set off rockets. No arrests were made, though all rockets were lost. I also saw my first fireflies, which I was surprisingly enthused about. The visit was fantastic and they were great hosts.
My flight left early Tuesday morning, so I set my alarm with plenty of extra time – unfortunately the alarm gods were against me once again (why stop a trend). L kindly woke me ten min before we had planned on leaving. I threw things together and we headed out the door. The plan was for B and L to see me to the metro/subway station and set me off to the airport. Unfortunately the way was barred by an accident which blocked all lanes of traffic and the Police turned us away. Change of plans, we took L back to their apartment and B drove me directly to the airport.
He dropped me off at exactly the time I had hoped to arrive - 7:00am. We made good time. Apparently, not good enough though. When I went to the desk to get my boarding pass confusion ensued. At the bottom was printed something to the effect of – this flight is full, there are no available seats, please check in at the gate to receive a seat assignment.
There genuinely were no seats to be assigned. At least 7 potential passengers were not able to get on the plane. The woman at the gate seemed so pleased with herself when she announced that she could still get me home via Philadelphia and I would arrive in Sacramento at 9:21 that evening. My jaw dropped. California time it was around 3am and I would get there at 9:21pm that night, thus not arriving home until after 10pm. My consolation – a round-trip ticket anywhere US Airways flies (after my experience I am not sure this is even worth it). I sat in Atlanta until 1pm then headed to Philly and finally Sacramento.
When I finally landed I was ready to melt into the ground I was so relieved. One blessing is I had a great excuse to miss the department meeting Tuesday afternoon. Upon receiving the recap on Wednesday morning I am pleased I missed it.
I still have not unpacked and am suffering with a strange sense of time. Example: After dinner (probably around 7:30) I got online and started reading the paper. When I was finished I looked down at the clock on my toolbar and it said 11:30. Now it felt like 11:40, so I believed that was actually the time, I was however confused how I could have wasted the entire evening when there was so much to do. In a panic I marched into the kitchen to discover it was only 8:40, phew! My internal clock is having major issues. I guess I can be grateful to be alive, and to have had such a wonderful time in Paris.
1. I got on the wrong metro – this NEVER happens and speaks to how tired I was.
2. I neglected to have breakfast
3. Totally disheveled
4. The hotel desk people held me up to say goodbye for a lengthy period
The one amazing thing was that in my groggy state I made it directly to the correct airline counter in record time, when I did not know where I was going or if I was even in the right terminal. I finally fed myself in the airport and sank into a large leather chair near my gate which smelled heavenly. Of course we boarded the plane early. Naively I thought my luck was changing. The deception continued, everyone was ecstatic about leaving early. As we boarded the flight attendant informed us that there were only 80 passengers on a plane with 214 seats. I had my choice between three seats to myself in the middle of the plane or two seats on the side next to the window. I opted for the window and settled down quite contently. It is a good thing we were all comfortable because we sat at the gate for two hours waiting for an electrical problem to be solved.
At length I arrived in Atlanta! It was wonderful to see L and B, especially since I have not had a chance to visit with them since their wedding. The weather was lovely. I wanted to kiss the ground when I landed. Monday L took me to see the Atlanta Historical Center, lovely, thought provoking, and entertaining. That evening for FHE we set off rockets. No arrests were made, though all rockets were lost. I also saw my first fireflies, which I was surprisingly enthused about. The visit was fantastic and they were great hosts.
My flight left early Tuesday morning, so I set my alarm with plenty of extra time – unfortunately the alarm gods were against me once again (why stop a trend). L kindly woke me ten min before we had planned on leaving. I threw things together and we headed out the door. The plan was for B and L to see me to the metro/subway station and set me off to the airport. Unfortunately the way was barred by an accident which blocked all lanes of traffic and the Police turned us away. Change of plans, we took L back to their apartment and B drove me directly to the airport.
He dropped me off at exactly the time I had hoped to arrive - 7:00am. We made good time. Apparently, not good enough though. When I went to the desk to get my boarding pass confusion ensued. At the bottom was printed something to the effect of – this flight is full, there are no available seats, please check in at the gate to receive a seat assignment.
There genuinely were no seats to be assigned. At least 7 potential passengers were not able to get on the plane. The woman at the gate seemed so pleased with herself when she announced that she could still get me home via Philadelphia and I would arrive in Sacramento at 9:21 that evening. My jaw dropped. California time it was around 3am and I would get there at 9:21pm that night, thus not arriving home until after 10pm. My consolation – a round-trip ticket anywhere US Airways flies (after my experience I am not sure this is even worth it). I sat in Atlanta until 1pm then headed to Philly and finally Sacramento.
When I finally landed I was ready to melt into the ground I was so relieved. One blessing is I had a great excuse to miss the department meeting Tuesday afternoon. Upon receiving the recap on Wednesday morning I am pleased I missed it.
I still have not unpacked and am suffering with a strange sense of time. Example: After dinner (probably around 7:30) I got online and started reading the paper. When I was finished I looked down at the clock on my toolbar and it said 11:30. Now it felt like 11:40, so I believed that was actually the time, I was however confused how I could have wasted the entire evening when there was so much to do. In a panic I marched into the kitchen to discover it was only 8:40, phew! My internal clock is having major issues. I guess I can be grateful to be alive, and to have had such a wonderful time in Paris.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
This morning for the first time…
The alarm clock worked! While it has been nice to know what time it is, sadly the alarm has not gone off the last two days. This morning, the final of the conference, it finally went off. But in order to turn it off I had to reset the entire clock. It no longer shows the correct time. Tomorrow I am asking for a wakeup call. In terms of work, things have gotten better. I will send back about half as much stuff as I came with. Yesterday the congress took a break for the afternoon so I had time to go take a nap, visit Notre Dame, a cemetery south of the city, and have a lovely dinner. Still having plenty of time to get some good reading and journal writing in, do my laundry, and take a walk after dinner.
Yesterday I was finally able to enroll in the last course I have to take for my Master’s program. It is strange to think this will be my final class. Even stranger because I already have taken the class – with the same instructor even. Unfortunately that semester was when my boss P quit and I was working 15 hours a week in Sacramento while working 30 hours a week at UCD, and taking three classes. Plus this instructor and I did not get along – hopefully we can overcome that this time. Because I have already taken the course I had to wait until after classes started to enroll with the instructor’s permission. I got the last spot. She did make me panic a little when I emailed her and she indicated she had given the permission number for the last spot to someone else. I would only be able to have it if this student decided not to attend, and none of the other professors would let me into their sections because they were full. Thankfully the professor frightened the other student off by mentioning how difficult her class would be – something I know from experience and I got the spot.
The only remaining element of the program is my thesis. I submitted my proposal almost two weeks ago and still have not heard anything from my committee, not even a “Thanks Kristen, we received your proposal and will get back to you”. I am going to guess they are busy rather than fear that they hate it. Though knowing the three professors I have asked they will tear it apart even if they like it.
My hotel room is located on the 4th floor of the hotel (which in France is actually the 5th floor). Thankfully they have a miniature elevator (so small in fact that I missed it the first day and walked up two flights of stairs with my luggage before they stopped me to point it out). The elevator is quite interesting, it probably has not been examined for safety in years and though it says it holds 3 people you would have a difficult time squeezing two people in. The fourth floor happens to abut someone’s apartment and this someone is a fantastic opera singer. Amazing. The first night I arrived he was singing Broadway melodies and I assumed it was a CD. Then two nights ago he was singing Opera until 2am. I realized at about 1:30 that it was a live performance. Last night he was trying to sing a song where he just couldn’t seem to hit the correct note because he kept singing the same notes and stopping then repeating, over and over again. I'd liken it to a broken record, though not painful.
Today is my last day in Paris! I must say I am quite excited about heading to Atlanta to visit L and B. What will I do to enjoy my final day in Paris? I would like to simply walk around – but after this week I already have some rather nasty blisters. Perhaps I will just go sit in the Park and relax, after I sit here at the conference for a few more hours and do my homework once the participants have all left at 1:00.
Yesterday I was finally able to enroll in the last course I have to take for my Master’s program. It is strange to think this will be my final class. Even stranger because I already have taken the class – with the same instructor even. Unfortunately that semester was when my boss P quit and I was working 15 hours a week in Sacramento while working 30 hours a week at UCD, and taking three classes. Plus this instructor and I did not get along – hopefully we can overcome that this time. Because I have already taken the course I had to wait until after classes started to enroll with the instructor’s permission. I got the last spot. She did make me panic a little when I emailed her and she indicated she had given the permission number for the last spot to someone else. I would only be able to have it if this student decided not to attend, and none of the other professors would let me into their sections because they were full. Thankfully the professor frightened the other student off by mentioning how difficult her class would be – something I know from experience and I got the spot.
The only remaining element of the program is my thesis. I submitted my proposal almost two weeks ago and still have not heard anything from my committee, not even a “Thanks Kristen, we received your proposal and will get back to you”. I am going to guess they are busy rather than fear that they hate it. Though knowing the three professors I have asked they will tear it apart even if they like it.
My hotel room is located on the 4th floor of the hotel (which in France is actually the 5th floor). Thankfully they have a miniature elevator (so small in fact that I missed it the first day and walked up two flights of stairs with my luggage before they stopped me to point it out). The elevator is quite interesting, it probably has not been examined for safety in years and though it says it holds 3 people you would have a difficult time squeezing two people in. The fourth floor happens to abut someone’s apartment and this someone is a fantastic opera singer. Amazing. The first night I arrived he was singing Broadway melodies and I assumed it was a CD. Then two nights ago he was singing Opera until 2am. I realized at about 1:30 that it was a live performance. Last night he was trying to sing a song where he just couldn’t seem to hit the correct note because he kept singing the same notes and stopping then repeating, over and over again. I'd liken it to a broken record, though not painful.
Today is my last day in Paris! I must say I am quite excited about heading to Atlanta to visit L and B. What will I do to enjoy my final day in Paris? I would like to simply walk around – but after this week I already have some rather nasty blisters. Perhaps I will just go sit in the Park and relax, after I sit here at the conference for a few more hours and do my homework once the participants have all left at 1:00.
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