"GO!" I said. The price of rescheduling the meeting is that she has to give me a full report.
Me, I have to stay at my desk and take advantage of the two free hours before my early afternoon seminar to catch up on desk work. I still have to finish the New Preface By The Author, too -- but may not get to this till after tonight's class. It is way overdue, but I had a way overdue refereeing thing due at an academic journal and that's what I did yesterday evening. (Yes, I got a full night's sleep afterward.)
Refereeing an article is a form of peer review. A journal sends you a proposed article by another scholar and you evaluate it re: its worthiness for publication and offer helpful critiques. I didn't start getting asked to do this kind of thing till last year. It's a Good Thing because it means the people at the fancy theological journal respect me as a scholar. Either that or they think I'm a pushover. It is an honor of a sort, unpaid of course, and can go on the list of things that count toward tenure. (It's considered "service to the academy.") I teach at a school that cares much more about teaching than about publication and academic service, but those do still count.
The non-leisurely life of academe. (In which my church work feels almost -- I did say ALMOST -- like a vacation.)
Did I mention I was thinking about going to Paris?
Um, how did I get from Barack Obama to the Ile Saint-Louis?
9 comments:
As soon as you figure it out, let me know.
I believe that you did mention that you were thinking of going to Paris, Jane.
Mimi, yes, I know. I am deliberately repeating myself to remind myself that Paris is there waiting for me.
JohnieB, you wiseass.
The student, by the way, called me brimming with enthusiasm in the late afternoon. She has a pretty good BS detector and says she doesn't just fall for any politician's nice talk, and she is sold. So I think Senator Obama just got himself another campaign volunteer (or two or ten).
I lived on the Île St-Louis the whole month of December 1967. And you tantalize me like this! I've never seen it in springtime..... [trembling lower lip]
Well then. Sell a few indulgences, Padre, and we're off.
If I go, it won't be till mid-June, because even though school ends in early May, I have some stateside commitments in two different states in late May and early June. (Miami in June? Oy.) So it won't be the real Paris spring with its tender yellow-green leaves, but more the up-against-summer mood. But I'll take what I can. I also have to earn a bit of something to supplement the Bush tax return so I can afford this trip, but I'll work on it. I also want to go to Portugal to see the nephew-niece and kidlet crew. (You may or may not recall I have a new grand-niece, born in late November.) Most of my immediate family lives abroad --only my parents are in the U.S.-- so family togetherness is pricy. Thank Godde for e-mail.
I won't be staying anywhere as pretty as the Île Saint-Louis, but God made the Métro for a reason.
I want to go to Paris, too!
"...family togetherness is pricey."
Thanks be to God, my immediate family is nearby, which has its pluses - and its minuses.
Whether nearby or far off, it's good to have family worth the trip.
I have a list of places I would like to go. Most of them are in Spain and England. I long to see Holy Week in Seville and to go cathedral-hopping in the UK. None of my Have To places are in Israel, a country that terrifies me. France is a Nice To Have. Maybe I can go cathedral-hopping there too after I'm done with the others. Oh, I left out Italy! High on the list.
Jane, you don't need to see Paris again. You can let me have your ticket, regardless of what I said. But you need to see Keansburg, New Jersey (look it up in your Funk & Wagnall's), aka the Riviera on the Raritan where the garbage meets the bay. There is no describing it apart from metaphor and however else you talk about Section 8 housing....
Oh dear, I was unclear in the first post, and it's taken this long to realize it; I meant that I would really like to go to France and leave U S politics behind until it's over.
Oops.
Post a Comment