Ha! I got you again! Really, now, this is getting too easy…I’ll bet you thought you were going to be reading some juicy tidbit of gossip about me, didn’t you? Well, you might, but it’s not nearly as juicy a tidbit as you had hoped: the “Bi” in the title here merely refers to the fact that because my fabulous hubby is a god among geeks (See “My Husband Is A God”, Pt. 1), I am officially “Bi-computered” (you’re darned right I made that up.) I am now able to switch at will between a PC and a Mac desktop with the push of a single wonderful button, right at my very own desk. Yeah, I know, “dual-computered” might have been more proper, but then, admit it, you probably wouldn’t have read this, would you? Naughty, naughty, naughty…

That’s right, everyone: from now on, no more shlepping to the lab. Thanks to the Mac Mini and a miracle of modern technology called a KVM switch, I can switch effortlessly and seamlessly back on forth on my monitor between my PC and my Mac. No rebooting, no tearing my hair out trying to switch cords from computer to computer. Sigh…I love this setup, and I love that my husband not only can do these sorts of things for me, but that he will. (And, Mean Professor-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless, he only teases me a little about the things I don’t know.)

In the few days that have passed since he set it up for me, I have grown more confident on the Mac, worked through two of my homework assignments, lost four pounds, won the Pulitzer Prize, and achieved world peace.

Nah, I’m just kidding about a couple of those. It has been very slick, though, and is saving me tons of time I didn’t really have to spare. On top of the two classes, I’m also writing a grant, trying to continue with my manuscript revision (eek! Another rejection letter today–but this one was pre-revision, so it didn’t hurt that badly…no, I lied: it stung like hell, but oh, well, that’s why I’m revising), and trying to get my editors’ newsletter out the door on time next week (I hope).

Having the freedom to work on all of those things at home, without ever having to leave the house (or eat, or comb my hair, or get dressed) has been terrific.

So thanks, honey, again, for helping me to live my dream (and really, who doesn’t dream of spending the day in their pajamas every once in a while?)

This is really the life.

Today, after a long three-day weekend during which I actually did do some work, I am playing frantic catch-up. I spent the morning reworking my resume and crafting a cover letter for a likely position that just crossed my desk; writing an article for this month’s newsletter; working a little bit on my manuscript revision (ugh, that’s going slowly today); and now I will split the remainder of my time this afternoon between research for a freelance project and trying to get ready for my class tomorrow morning.

I know that this is just a test for me of my resolve to work on this manuscript every day, (I want to have it finished and ready for the next round of submissions by the end of March) which I’m doing a pretty good job of maintaining, but find I am feeling just a teensy bit stretched this afternoon. I took the dog for a brief walk in between my gear-switching to clear the stress fog creeping into my brain, and am feeling much better for it.

And now, back to work. See you next time I manage to come up for air!

Provocative title, don’t you think? Even, perhaps, a bit titillating? Well, evidently, my last post, with the word “panties” in the title, was, too, because that day, what do you know, there was a marked “Bump” in my blog stats. Now there are two whole people reading it, although I really don’t want to speculate what that second individual was doing while he was reading…so there’s the Bump.

Now, back to the Grind: I’ve had my nose back to the grindstone all morning, and after a lot of struggle and banging on my head on the keyboard, think I’ve finally managed to rework Chapter Five. My brain now feels about as jiggly and weak as my backside does from sitting and working on that chapter all morning.

Fortunately, I arranged my schedule for today (hopefully) to allow for a quick trip to the dungeon/fitness area in our basement to try to restore some signs of life and vigor to mind and body alike.

But, before that, I thought I’d give you an update. For those of you hoping that this will involve more about panties, prepare to be disappointed.

The revision is still going well, though I expect things to slow down even a bit more now that I’m back in classes again. I am feeling much more confident on that front, as I took some unexpected free time yesterday at school and spent it in the computer lab working my way through multiple tutorials. Think I have now figured out how to turn on the Mac in my classroom…just kidding–figured out a lot more than that and am no longer feeling like the class dunce (although I don’t have that class again until a week from Monday–will let you know how that goes).

Yesterday’s class went well. I liked the instructor, there are a few classmates from my fall class in there–it just felt like a much more comfortable fit. I am planning on heading back to the lab this afternoon, if I can swing it, to work on some of my homework there. At some point, we’ll probably wind up purcashing the software so I can use it at home, but for now, I’m still going to use the (free) resources provided by the school.

Add to my revision process two classes, a possible grant project due at month’s end, and the commencement of the production cycle for the newsletter I edit, and it’s going to be a busy couple of weeks. That’s why I feel absolutely no guilt in teasing you in with a salacious title. I wasn’t really being dishonest: there was a Bump in my stats, and working through those tutorials and Chapter Five of my revision was a Grind–just not the bump and grind some of you were hoping for.

Silly, isn’t it? An increase in traffic just from the word “panties.”

But hey, if that’s the way things work, then…

Bra!

I returned to class yesterday for the first time since Winter Break ended. I was just as excited to be back in the classroom (or in this case, the computer lab) this time around as I was for my class in the fall.

I was, however, a bit more nervous about this one: It is a software class, and technology is not my strongest suit (duh, that’s why I’m going to classes for it!) But the bigger problem, the one that cost me at least one hour of sleep Sunday night, was that the school’s computer labs are all Macs, and I, dear readers, am a PC. Actually, let me qualify that statement a bit: I use a PC. Generally speaking, I think people who define themselves by the type of computer they use need to get a life, though I must admit that the expression, “I’m a PC”, is quite effective in getting across to a baffled Mac-lab software teacher the fact that you have no idea what he’s talking about.

The class started off well enough: The teacher was energetic and engaging, and seemed to really know what he was talking about. He encouraged us to ask questions, to never be afraid to raise our hands, etc., etc., etc., so I felt pretty comfortable the first time he started demonstrating something on the screen and I didn’t catch it. I follow directions for the most part, so I raised my hand and asked him what he did and how he did it. Imagine my surprise when he teased me about having to ask!

Fortunately, I’ve got a pretty good sense of humor (I think), and a background in theater, so I was able to laugh it off with a witty retort of my own and move on.

Alas, shortly thereafter, I found myself lost on some stupid thing again (and when I say stupid, please try to understand that stupidity is relative.) If you’ve used a PC all your life, then operating a Mac is not actually “intuitive”–that’s just the popular byword all you Macs out there like to try shame all us PC-users with. Well, I looked up  the word intuitive in the dictionary and one of the definitions reads “readily learned or understood<software with an ~ interface>.” I therefore respectfully disagree: Macs are not intuitive, at least not for me.

Okay, back to the panties. The teacher told us to ask if we didn’t understand something, and I took him at his word. There were several more things I didn’t understand, so I asked several more questions, and each time I did, he teased me a little more about the gaps in my knowledge, and each time the class tittered and giggled at my expense. (And my classmates in this class were, on the whole, a lot older than the teens and twenty-somethings in my last class; you get a whole room of aging baby boomers and grannies laughing at you, then you know you’re screwed.)

I was getting more and more frustrated, and more and more embarrassed with each question. Finally, I just gave up, but the woman next to me took pity on me and kindly allowed me to pester her with my questions. Unfortunately, I made her miss something she didn’t understand, which made me feel bad, so I sucked it up and asked the teacher one last question, for which he teasingly chided me that I shouldn’t have been bothering my classmate, but should be asking him instead. I replied (laughingly–never let ’em see you cry), “Well, she doesn’t tease me when I ask questions.” He made a gesture like I’d wounded him to the quick with my comment, but I was beyond caring.

Why do some teachers feel the need to embarrass their students for asking questions? I walked out of that classroom close to tears, fuming and angry about my first day in that class for pretty much the rest of the day. I fantasized what I would say to the teacher if we were alone in a dark alley (and I had a large can of mace in one hand and a cellphone with 9-1-1 on speed dial in the other): “You big, arrogant jerk! I used to be a teacher, too, you know, and I always told my students that the only stupid questions are the ones you never ask. Why do you think I came here in the first place? To learn, or to be the butt of your jokes? What kind of teacher are you? If you’re so talented at what you do, then why are you teaching at a technical community college in the first place? Grrrrrr!”

When my husband returned home, he was eager to hear about my class, but with our children present, I didn’t feel I could open that can of worms (I feared the expletives might damage their tender ears). But he kept pressing me and pressing me to tell him what was wrong. Finally, I blew, tears practically welling up in my eyes as I told him how the professor had spent most of the class teasing me about my shortcomings (I swear, I almost had to check to see if I had on Disney Princess underwear–almost.) He got that look in his eye, the one that always tells me, “Julia, you’re over-reacting. Come down off the ledge, let’s talk this over as if you were a rational human being, and see what needs to be fixed with this situation.”  Translation: Put on your big-girl panties and deal.

But I was in no mood to deal at that moment. I was in a mood to kick and scream, to rail against the teacher’s casual cruelty to me and against the general injustice of a world that cannot agree to all use the same type of computers. I know what needs to be fixed (at least with me; the teacher’s needs are a whole ‘nother story.) My husband is right: I need to put on my big-girl panties and go to work. I need to beef up my Mac skills, plain and simple. I need to work harder than anyone else in that class to show him that teasing is not going to stop me from showing up in class and asking him questions. (In fact, it’ll likely just piss me off again and spur me on to even greater heights.)

I will spend extra time in the lab. I will memorize every chapter of the textbook. I will become so damned proficient in this software that I’ll be able to operate it with my eyes closed. (All right, all right–designing stuff with your eyes closed is probably a bad idea, anyway.)

But make no mistake, Professor: it’s on. It is so on. No, wait–they’re on. That’s right, the big-girl panties are on, and they’re coming for you.

Ouch–hang on a second; all that chest-thumping has given me a wedgie…

Sorry, couldn’t resist–instead of working last night, when I should have, I played hooky to watch the new episode of The Simpsons and the 20th-anniversary show that followed. So, there goes that resolution–I spent the day yesterday not writing. Naughty girl.

I am trying to get back on the path of righteousness today; I have just spent an hour and a half working on my revision, which is definitely slowing down, and I did research some submission opportunities for a couple of my short stories.

But, unfortunately, today, I go back to school. Now, if you read any of my earlier posts, you know that I generally find that an exciting thing, something I look forward to, but with my newfound (and admittedly still shaky) writing discipline at stake, I’m finding it hard to work up a lot of enthusiasm for sitting in a classroom for four hours this afternoon when I could be writing instead.

Ultimately, I know this is good for me. This stuff, for lack of a better term, I’ll be learning today is stuff I’ll be able to use in a practical way someday, say, if I decide in six months or so that I will settle for self-publishing and need to do my own book design. That’ll be a practical application, sure.

Oh, but today, all I want to do is write.

Oh, and smoke–that hasn’t gone away, despite my running a couple of quick miles this morning to remind myself of things I couldn’t do when I was a smoker…didn’t help. Still craving.

Be strong, naughty girl, be strong.