MonochroMe

Welcome to my first (and quite possibly last) self-portrait. I realized today that I had managed to completely dress myself in shades of black and grey, from head to toe. It wasn't intentional, and may have only stemmed from a desire to wear my new black snow boots to work today, but it wound up fitting my mood. I've been feeling very...blah today. Still a little sick, unmotivated, tired. But as I walked home from the bus stop and watched my little black feet against the fresh white snow that was falling around me, I was reminded that while I am a colorful person, sometimes there's nothing more beautiful than the simplicity of black and white. So I'm ending my blah day just a little bit tongue-in-cheek. ;)

The G-Bomb

Men of the world, I have a bone to pick with you. If you meet a woman, and you're chatting with her, enjoying her company, enjoying a little mild, harmless flirtation...just how long do you wait before you drop the G-bomb? It's easy to do...you're talking about your daily life, a movie you've seen, a tv show you like to watch...there are plenty of natural opportunities to drop an offhand mention of "my girlfriend..." Yet for some reason, you avoid it at all costs. Now, I get that it's fun to talk to someone, flirt with them, and it's more fun if the person whose conversation you're enjoying thinks you're single. Or maybe you feel it's not this new person's business what your relationship status is. Now, I'm not saying that every conversation should begin with "I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!!!" Easy dude...I just offered to push an elevator button for you. But on behalf of the single girls in the world, I think it's safe to say that we appreciate the subtle drop. We won't stop talking to you, or flirting with you (within reasonable limits), but while it sucks finding out this guy you're vibing with is already taken, it sucks more wondering why the guy you were vibing with all night has no interest in getting your number. Dating at a certain age is exhausting and frustrating enough already, without having to waste your energy feeling out someone who is already spoken for. If the best I can hope for out of you is a new friendship, I'd like to know that up front. I'm always glad to make a new friend, but when you're meeting someone new and trying to figure out how to connect with them, there's no point in keeping your options open if you don't actually have any. Women are constantly accused of playing games, but you guys play them too. I just want to know what I'm up against - I don't want to mess with your head, and I don't appreciate you messing with mine.

So you had a good day...

Daniel Powter can kiss my ass, because I've had a good day. No, a GREAT day. It started off slow - the alarm goes off after a too-short period of unconsciousness, as has become my modus operandi these days. But hey, it's worth it if the reason you were up so late was a good conversation with a relatively new but good friend, right? So I take my time getting ready, because today is sort of a significant one - I'm finishing up my first of two units I'm teaching, which means I'm going to have a couple of weeks off to do research work...I'm getting paid for the first time since my teaching salary kicked in...I have plans to go out for a drink after work...all in all, it's a good day to look cute. So I eventually get to work...get ready for class...visit the friend who not only kept me up late last night but is going out with me after work because he's just that cool. I give my lecture, and this is where it gets good: as I'm wrapping things up for the day, I say, "Well, that's all I have for today. Enjoy kinetics, and I'll see you in a couple of weeks." That's when it happens. A round of applause. Now, I feel the need to stop and take a moment here to convey just what that means to me. The U of T reminds me a great deal of UVa, where I did my undergrad. They both seem to have similar reputations, and take themselves quite seriously in terms of the quality of education they provide (some would say TOO seriously, but that's an entry for another day). Now, when I was in undergrad, there would always be discussion during the last week of class about which professors you thought would get applause on the last day. It certainly wasn't a given - it was reserved for those professors you really appreciated, the ones whose lectures you didn't want to skip. The legendary ones, or the less celebrated but no less enjoyable lecturers...those were the ones you applauded for. I mean, you fill out evaluations of your professors, you let them know you like them, but it takes a special extra effort to show your appreciation to their face (and, I feel the need to add, that face is, in my memory, ALWAYS that of a man - chew on that for a bit). This is the first big lecture class I've ever taught - to be honest, the prospect scared me shitless just 3 weeks ago. So I've considered it a victory every time I teach a class where I feel like the students are engaged, and listening to me not because they have nowhere else to be but because they WANT to. I'm thrilled when they actually laugh at my stupid chemistry jokes - I never in a million years thought I would be able to win them over enough to actually applaud me. And when it comes down to it, I may have a very long and brilliant career as a professor ahead of me, and I may be applauded many times, but this will always be the first one. And I can't imagine it will get better.

So at this point, I'm on a full-on teaching high. It's like I'm freebasing education, baby - it's a good feeling. So what do I do? I go back to my office and gloat to anyone that will listen. Luckily, my friends are very understanding and quite happy for me - they get that this is a big deal, or at the very least are quite experienced at humoring me at this point. So I manage to get very little done for the rest of the day, because I'm flitting around patting myself on the back and having self-satisfied nerdgasms all over the place, until the end of the day when the aforementioned after-work drink plans kick in. Just having plans after work on a Friday is a happy thing - especially when you're in the mood to celebrate and you've got good company lined up. I meet up with a friend/coworker that I've been talking to a lot lately and figuring out is a pretty freaking cool (read: very similar to me in many ways) person. We go out for a couple of beers and some spicy appetizers, and lots of good conversation. People I've met here seem to be under the impression that I am this outgoing person who can carry on a conversation with anyone about anything...the sort of person that somehow draws attention in a group. That's really not me at all when it comes down to it - I mean, I am that person around my research group, but that's because they're all too quiet and nice for their own damned good - SOMEONE has to shake things up a bit. Beneath the surface, I'm really a one-on-one person. I cherish the time I get to spend alone with a good friend, and always prefer hanging out with one or two other people to an entire roomful. And I haven't really gotten close enough to many people here yet to warrant that sort of intimate interaction. So getting to go out and sit across a table from someone you enjoy talking to is a rare treat for me, especially when you're still in that stage of friendship where every question leads to a new revelation about that person. And it doesn't hurt matters that he's a cute guy, and incredibly sweet, and already a dear friend. There are worse things you could be batting your eyes at across a plate of hot wings, my friend. During the entire time we were hanging out, a lovely light blanket of snow was falling - my first Toronto snow that wasn't an icy, slushy mess. And as I walked home through the freshly fallen, sparkling snow, all I could think was what a lovely package it all made, and what a thoroughly nice day it had been - I really couldn't ask for much more.

I am disappointed in myself.

Having just scrolled through some of my previous posts, I come to the realization that as a general rule, this blog has been far more earnest and far less sarcastic and bitter than I promised to be when I began writing it. I promise to do what I can to correct this egregious error in the future, although I will not be held responsible for the fact that frankly, I'm pretty satisfied with my lot in life at the moment, which really does take the piss 'n vinegar quotient down a notch. But I'll see what I can do.

My World Tour

So I haven't really blogged about this yet, because there's so much to say and my time is in high demand these days, but for the last 2 1/2 weeks or so I've been teaching for the first time as a lecturer in a Big Time University (TM). In this case, the BTU (TM) in question is the University of Toronto, and the course I'm teaching is CHM 139 - good ol' general chemistry, physical principles. Now, for some background, my previous teaching experience consists of a wide variety of TA gigs while I was in grad school (everything from 1st-year gen chem to 4th-year analytical chem to grad-level classes) and one summer teaching a class of 10 students at a community college back home in Virginia. So I'm a little green, but the guy who hires the sessional lecturers at the U of T actually decided in a moment of questionable judgement to entrust the minds of 900 first-years to yours truly. Now, let's be honest - those who want to learn the material will do so, regardless of who stands in front of them for 3 hours a week. And those who don't want to be there or aren't capable of grasping the material never will, regardless of who stands in front of them for 3 hours a week. But there are a number of precious souls in the middle - those who have to take the class for some reason or another...for whom the material doesn't come naturally but who need to learn it or are forced to try...these are the people that those of us who are passionate about teaching try to reach. We don't have delusions about making them fall in love with our discipline - we merely aim to make the process as entertaining as possible. If you make the class fun, maybe they'll remember it fondly instead of as "that awful class in which I almost died of confusion and/or boredom." It is because of these people that it is advantageous and/or dangerous to hire people like me. I am, when it comes down to it, an entertainer. Or at least I try to be. And I have to say, a great deal of my passion for teaching comes from a truly selfish place. The idea of a few hundred students, crammed into an auditorium, with nothing to do but LISTEN TO ME TALK is like peanut butter in a mousetrap - a tidbit I cannot resist. I can now officially say that there is no better feeling for me than when a class of 250+ students falls silent to listen to what I have to say. Wait...scratch that...it's even better when they laugh at my jokes and lame analogies...THEN fall silent to hear the explanation of the principle that I'm joking about. I know I'm having a good day when they don't just politely titter at some lame attempt at humor - they LAUGH at me. And students don't think we know this, but we can tell the difference between when they are laughing at your joke and when they are laughing because they know you think you're being cute and they're doing it to suck up. I always know that I am comfortable and in my element when I can make off-the-cuff jokes that are actually funny - most people only THINK they are more clever and witty when they drink, but for me it's actually true because I am a very clever and witty person, but only when I let my guard down. And that HAPPENS in my class...no alcoholic beverages necessary. Screw Disney - as far as I'm concerned, being in the middle of a good lecture is the happiest place on earth.

One

I'm not the kind of girl who goes around bemoaning my singlehood, claiming that my life would be perfect if only I had a guy to share it with. I don't need a man to validate me, and I enjoy my solitude and my independence. But I also couldn't be farther from the man-hating feminist type. I don't NEED a guy to share in my good fortune, but I've never found a good thing that wasn't better when shared with someone. Experiences, hobbies... food, drink...successes and failures... kit kat bars... these are all things that are more significant when you share them with someone special. And to be perfectly honest, over the last few weeks, I've been feeling that void. I'm happy with my life, my job, my family and friends - I couldn't ask for anything better in any of those areas right now. But the fact of the matter is, they'd all be enriched if I had someone to share them with.

Oh, let's just go ahead and say it... I'm lonely. This has become more and more evident over the last few weeks, and that feeling was compounded sometime this week when I realized it's been nearly a year since my last relationship ended. Now, I've been single for good reason since then - finishing a Ph.D., moving back home with your parents, and moving (to not just a different town, but a different COUNTRY) are not terribly conducive to a hot romantic life. But that doesn't change the fact that some days, you just want to come home to a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead. And they say the first step to finding someone is figuring out what you want. So without further ado, I present What I Want:

1) I want to meet a guy, feel an attraction, and be asked out... to be pursued. I don't want to have to do all the work. I am tired of always being the one with the balls to turn a good friendship into something better. Feeling like you're bullying a guy into dating you is hard on the ego.

2) I want to be taken out on a real date, where he tries his best to come up with somewhere to take me that I will like to go. He doesn't have to actually be right, just make the effort. And it's certainly not about money - I have more appreciation for a guy who can take me out for a really good cheap date than for one who can spend a lot of money for an evening that is just fine.

3) I want to be kissed. I want a guy to slide his arm around my waist, pull me close, and kiss me because he can't stand to look at me and not kiss me anymore. I don't want to be asked if he can kiss me. I don't want an awkward, timid kiss. I want to be kissed by someone who knows what they're doing.

4) I want him to look into my eyes, and make me never want to look away.

5) I want to be with someone who is available - to know that the future is available to me. I am tired of telling people about my new relationship, "It's not going to go anywhere, but at least it makes for good companionship." Companionship is nice, but it's not enough. I don't want to spend any more time curled up in blind alleys - I someone to help me out of the maze.

6) I want to share my passions and my priorities. I want to be with someone who wants the same things out of life that I do - who is passionate and willing to learn... who is open to my interests and desires, and who will challenge me to appreciate the loves of their life.

7) I want to say, "I love you." And I want to hear it back. Without reservation or qualification.

So yeah, that's what I want. No wonder I'm still single. And lonely.

The apocalypse most certainly is nigh.

First Lionel Richie sings Brick House on the Today show (seriously, Lionel...are you trying to kill me???), then my coffee pot explodes. Seriously - tiny shards of silvered glass ALL OVER my kitchen. 2007 is seriously fucked up thus far.

Why is Lionel Richie singing Brick House????

I mean...SERIOUSLY.

Yeah...2006 is SO last year...

Recently, my dad posed the question, "Why is New Year's such a big deal?" He wasn't referring to the parties, or the frantic need to find someone to kiss at midnight, he was referring to the nearly universal need to celebrate that comes over the world at this time of year. Think about it - a great variety of cultures, for reasons secular or divine, have some sort of celebration when the calendar resets. There's something about a new year that seems to require some sort of observance beyond having to exercise extra caution when writing checks. It's a natural time to take stock of your life, make a note of what you want to change, and do something about it. It occurred to me tonight that the number 2007 feels odd. Every new date seems to, but there was something about this one that I couldn't put my finger on. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that five years ago, 2002, I rang in the year that has gone down in history as the most difficult year in my life thus far. Now, I have some perspective - just because a particular year was the worst one I've had in my short life doesn't mean it was as bad as it can get, and I'm grateful to not know how bad bad can be. But if I have a lucky number, it's the number 5, and I'd like to think that 2006 closed the 5-year cycle that began in 2002. And it did an excellent job - it started off rough, but gave me a Ph.D., my first real teaching experience and some quality time with my family, a great new job in a fantastic new town, and ended with one of the nicest Christmases in recent memory. So I'm raising a glass to 2007, in the hopes that a new cycle will begin. One in which every year is the BEST year of my short life. Foolishly optimistic? I'm sure. But what can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic.