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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I\'m an opinionated, snarky, gay academic with a predilection for the history, the Arab world, languages, photography, food, and music. I live in Austin, Texas. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘stress’



And So …

Tuesday, February 17th, 2009

I haven’t posted much lately.  If you’re still with me, you know that, and if you’re not … well, you’re not going to read this anyway, so fuck you.  (and I mean that in the nicest possible way.)

It hasn’t been the best few weeks.  When I’m stressed, I tend not to want to take the time to blog.  Things like 12 of 12 are easy because they don’t involve a lot of thought (except for the usual conundrum of how to make another day in the office seem easily through photographic evidence).  I don’t want to rehash the drama: it’s all work-related, and it’s had me tied up in knots, and not in the good way.

And so.  Today there was resolution, although not from the quarter that I expected.  Part of the frustration came a week ago when I had a meeting with my boss in which it really seemed as though he was blaming me for not being able to read his mind.  (Seriously.  I reviewed the events of the meeting with someone else who was there just to make sure that the only possible way that the situation could have been avoided would have been for me to engage in telepathy, and this was confirmed.)

Today, however, there was the final postscript and the revelation that the situation that aired itself last week unsatisfactorily was a symptom of a more general problem that I can fix.  The irony, of course, being that I have sat through countless discussions with my boss in which he’s told me he likes to fix problems, not symptoms, and yet he was only presenting me with symptoms to fix.

So, now we can move forward.  I hope.

There’s no movement on the other major drama front: Professor X is currently not speaking to me.  (Yes, this is the same Professor X who supervised the long-gone and not-missed SHE).  It’s amazing sometimes how ostentatiously people can ignore you when they want you to know passively that they’re upset with you.  This would bother me more if I actually gave a damn.

I was more upset that Professor X’s first salvo was to go into my assistant’s office and lose his shit.  They have a history, but she no longer works for him, and he can’t do that sort of thing anymore.  When he came to me, I backed her up, and now he’s not speaking to either of us.  Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Let’s see, what else … I’ve been all over creation lately.  Denton last weekend (if you don’t know where it is, consider yourself fortune), Houston the weekend before, and some hotel the weekend before that.  Doesn’t matter where, I never got to leave it.  Next weekend I get to go down to the Rio Grande Valley, which I’m looking forward to, because we always get a good reception down there.

And it looks like I get to go to Turkey this summer.  And maybe, just maybe, I’m gonna tack on a week in Cairo after.

Gee, I guess maybe you haven’t missed out on much after all. 

At any rate.  I’m going to try to be better about blogging now that I feel like I can do something personally that doesn’t involve ranting about hating everyone I work with.  I’ll change tactics and just rant about how I hate most of the people I work with ;)

The Never-Gonna-Get-There Blues

Tuesday, January 6th, 2009

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It’s currently 8:19 pm Austin time, 6:19 pm San Francisco time, and I haven’t got the foggiest idea what time it is in Korea because, as far as I can tell, we’re never actually going to get there.

I’ve been on long flights before, but it never ceases to amaze me how you can zonk out for what feels like hours, have vivid dreams (in my case, accompanied by equally vivid cursing people out–out loud–to the consternation of both my boyfriend and the other passengers, and wake up to discover you’ve been out for about thirty minutes.  Ugh.

It has been a long, exhausting couple of days. On Saturday night (jeez, was that only two days ago?), Rodney had us over for a make your own pizza night.  We’ve done these in the past; they’re kind of fun.  He gets dough from a local Italian restaurant and then everyone gets to make up their own toppings.  It’s a nice idea in theory, however, between the overconsumption of pizza with odd and conflicting toppings and my nerves about the trip (yes, I get a little anxious before travel, especially to new parts of the world where I don’t even know how to say “yes” or “no”), I was up half the night.  Had my digestive system been an airplane, the flight attendants would have been on the PA making the announcement to “please exit the aircraft through the nearest door.”  That started around 2 in the morning and continued in fits and spurts (no pun intended, although perfectly applicable) until around 9.

The panic attack happened around 10 when I began contemplating what would happen if I hadn’t recovered enough to make the trip.  Between the, “what if I can’t fly tomorrow because I’m still too sick?” and “dear God what is wrong with me that I’m stressing this much about this trip,” well … I’ve had panic attacks before, and I’ve heard said that people have confused them with heart attacks.  This was the first time I ever had one of those kinds of panic attacks.  Fortunately, I knew what was happening and was able to take measures accordingly without involving a trip to the emergency room or somesuch.  It did, however, involve me sleeping a good chunk of the early afternoon.

Anyway, where this is all going is that it was mid-afternoon before either myself or Ray was ready to begin packing.  As the luggage is in the cargo hold, I’m still not convinced we didn’t forget … many things, but we seem to have done all right with the carry ons.

Mom and Dad came to pick us up at 5:30 in the morning — which, because it’s my parents, meant that they came at 5:20.  I had these grandiose visions of taking all sorts of artistic shots of the luggage and the tickets splayed out along with out passports and … yeah, no.  Flying the first Monday morning — the first work day — after New Year’s is ridiculous.  We got to the airport in Austin, and thank God that Dad has earned elite status with United Airlines because if we’d had to go through the main check in line, we might, in fact, still be waiting.  The line for security — all three of them — were wrapped around the terminal.  By the time we got through security, we stopped-by mutual agreement-long enough to pick up something to eat since none of us had had breakfast, and walked right on the airplane.

Three and a half hours later we were in gray, rainy San Francisco, where we had the fun and excitement of a four hour layover that involved repeated walks up and down the G concourse, where there isn’t much in the way of food that’s inexpensive or particularly fast.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we boarded this here Boeing triple-7  that, according to the Airshow program on my little foldout screen, is currently at 35,000 feet, traveling around 500 miles per hour on a west northwest heading over the Pacific Ocean a good distance south of the Aleutian islands.  We’re not even halfway there yet – Korea (nor Japan) hasn’t even come into view on the screen.

I know the best thing for it is to just sit here and tune out everything, and accept that we’ll get there at some point, but there’s no rush.  My limit on being able to sit still the entire flight, though, is right around 9-10 hours.  This one’s scheduled at 12 and a half.

I wonder if I can score another glass of water off the flight attendant.

Next post from Korea, or bust!

‘Tis the Season

Tuesday, December 23rd, 2008

I know that friends from around the country will laugh at my admitted southern wimpdom at declaring the weather down here “cold,” but for us, it’s cold, dagnabbit:

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For the record, today is a bit colder.  Oddly, the weather widget I’m looking at says: “Today: High 59, Low 54.  Right now: 40.”  (In Celsius, that’s a high of 15, a low of 12, and it’s currently 6.)  Ech.  What do they know?

It’s also raining right now, which I’m feeling a bit conflicted about, because it hasn’t rained in so long, but I had plans to take the dog to the park today.  (Ray left to go home yesterday, so I’m on my own and a bit bored.  I’ve managed to sit through two of the Austin Powers movies so far, and it’s not even noon.)  She hates getting baths, and I don’t like giving her baths, so taking her to the park when it’s going to be a big mud puddle doesn’t strike me as a lot of fun!

So, instead I decided to bake cookies.  How domestic of me!  I’m not great with the baking, but these came out great:

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These are Chocolate Crinkle Cookies, which I’ve never made before.  However, Bev and I were driving home last week and NPR had this cookie lady on, who described these in a style of narration that I can really only describe as semi-pornographic.  At one point, Bev and I looked at each other and I said, “I’m starting to feel a little dirty listening to this!” and she laughed and said, “I know, right?”  The narration was a bit lascivious in tone, but memorable enough that when I realized that I was going to show up to the folks’ house empty-handed, I thought, hmm.  I wonder if I have all of the right ingredients in the house?  And, for once, I did!

I also think that after eating more than two of these, you might become diabetic.  They’re really sweet.

So, anyway.  It’s a quiet week, but I’m enjoying it right now.  For many, the holidays are a time of stress, but for me, I’m just going to sit here and be a lazy bum.  The weather is cooperating with that plan quite nicely :)

Happy holidays, y’all!

The Horrible Patient

Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008

It’s kind of ironic, I guess, that I wait until after the holiday and weeks after being around a bunch of ill people at work before I finally succumb to the head cold that’s been going around. The weather in Austin has been up and down lately — last night we hit a low near freezing — and given the stress I’ve been under, it’s not surprising that I got sick.

I’ve recognized for a while that I’m a bad sick person. In my case, the problem is that the moment I feel even slightly better I overexert myself and make my illness worse.

I never realized how much dedication goes in to the hypochondria and perpetual illness that some people seem to have. Would that I had the temperament to lay about demanding that others wait on me hand and foot. “Boy! Pit me an olive!”

So, I’m trying to be really good today, sitting on the sofa, keeping warm, drinking lots of liquids, and watching … OK, I’m not quite at the point where I can deal with mediocre daytime television. My head cold isn’t quite severe enough for me to deal with Elizabeth Hasselback. I don’t care how ill I feel, I’m not quite that ill.

But maybe I’m feeling ill enough for someone to bring me some soup? :wink:

Exercising My Right to be Lazy

Sunday, November 30th, 2008

‘Tis the Sunday after Thanksgiving and all through the house
Not a creature is stirring, especially not my lazy dog
The stockings have been hung by the TV with care
Because this is Texas and we don’t have a fireplace — get real!

And enough of the writing in verse.  It’s gotten chilly down here in America’s south, although it’s not as bad as, say, up north in DC or Seattle or Ireland, but let’s be perfectly honest: I’ll bet I can deal with the heat better than those guys can (except maybe Brian since he grew up in Atlanta).  Challenge extended, I’m going to exercise my right to sit here and be a lazy bum on the sofa today.  We have a free extended cable “preview” weekend, so Ray and I have watched nearly the entire first season of True Blood and are now catching up on Dexter.  Or we will whenever Ray gets up.

Thanksgiving this year was a small affair — just the two of us and my parents, who brought their photos from their recent “If it’s Tuesday, it must be Belgium” trip through Europe.  Ray chided me slightly for critiquing my father’s photography skills (or lack thereof) but, honestly, how many times can you shoot through your bus window with flash … when you’re using a digital camera … before it occurs to you that maybe you ought to turn the flash off?

This year, the menu consisted of ham (I’m ambivalent about turkey; Ray doesn’t care for it, and my parents always have one on Christmas if they’re jonesing for a tryptophan fix), cornbread stuffing, sweet potato puree, mashed potatoes, and asparagus.  We ate outside–Thanksgiving purists, recoil in horror!  It was 80 degrees on T day this year, and I suggested that we eat on the back patio because, after the stress involved in getting the damned thing built, I kind of feel as though we ought to use it as much as possible.

I insisted on going to the outlet malls down the street (they’re only two miles away) when they opened at midnight.  For those of you not in the US, I don’t know if you can appreciate the cultural phenomenon that is Black Friday.  Frankly, I was a little astounded at the number of people who showed up at midnight, and even more astounded by the number of people who brought small, tired, cranky, whining children with them.  Isn’t the whole point of hitting the Black Friday sales to buy gifts FOR your children?  What good does it to to wake them up in the middle of the night to bring them with you??

Ray and I went together because our primary objective really wasn’t gifts for each other.  We are going on a family visit to Korea in January to visit my brother and sister-in-law (along with my parents), and, based on the advice of everyone I know who’s been to Korea in the winter, I wanted to get thermal underwear, which was on sale at the Jockey store. 

That mission accomplished, we hit a few other places–Brooks Brothers was having a sale.  I have long coveted Brooks Brothers trousers.  I own many BB shirts, and they’re the easiest damned things to take care of.  You can practically wad them up into a ball at the bottom of your suitcase and, as long as you hang them up when you get to your hotel, they’ll be free of wrinkles by morning.  I hate ironing in hotel rooms — they never make the cord long enough and the ironing board tends to leave very little room for one to actually stand in front of it and … well, let’s just say I got my trousers.  Three pair, in fact :mrgreen:

Ray actually got up again at 4 am to go hit a bunch of other stores when they opened.  I slept right through it.

It’s been a fairly quiet long weekend — after what has been a hellish fall, I’m kind of enjoying it, actually.  Yesterday we put up some of the Christmas decorations, and I guess we need to decide how much we’re going to put up outside today or put the lights away. 

Oh, and my car is now overdue for its annual inspection.  Seriously –this is earthshattering stuff here, ain’t it?

Other than that.  I hope your weekend(s) have been fun and exciting or lowkey and relaxing, whichever your hearts desire!

 

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