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Oct. 28th, 2003 10:44 pmI have serious stiffness in my joints and muscles. I've been so stressed, and working so hard, either sitting or pacing, that the last three days I've woken up with stiffness. I really want to take a dance class, or something that involves moving my back and arms in sinuous ways for long periods of time. Gaa. Where's a belly dancing class when you need one? Unfortunately all the rec center offers is either aerobics or dance for people with way more dance skills than I've got.
I talked to my father last night. He'd gone to a week-long leadership workshop with Linda and was really excited about a lot of things I've encountered in contexts like high school freshman orientation and reading about Indian spirituality. He was enthusiastic about trust falls and rope courses, and amazed that a couple of people could move his body around and determine from that, without speaking to him at all, that he lived in his head. It's kind of strange, because these are things that I'm rather blasee(how do you spell that?) about since I grew up with them. But, yea!, to my father being dorky.
The critique-my-paper session today was painful but also positive. Painful because I sat in a class with people critiquing my paper for an hour and twenty five minutes, but nevertheless useful because it turned out people hadn't understood why I organized my paper the way I had or how the sections responded to each other. I was able to clarify that and now I'll be able to work it into the paper. And I'm happy it's over. My critic and Professor Prowe did most of the talking and only three other people made any comments at all, so it wasn't like being barraged by everyone in the class, which is sort of how I pictured it.
I talked to my father last night. He'd gone to a week-long leadership workshop with Linda and was really excited about a lot of things I've encountered in contexts like high school freshman orientation and reading about Indian spirituality. He was enthusiastic about trust falls and rope courses, and amazed that a couple of people could move his body around and determine from that, without speaking to him at all, that he lived in his head. It's kind of strange, because these are things that I'm rather blasee(how do you spell that?) about since I grew up with them. But, yea!, to my father being dorky.
The critique-my-paper session today was painful but also positive. Painful because I sat in a class with people critiquing my paper for an hour and twenty five minutes, but nevertheless useful because it turned out people hadn't understood why I organized my paper the way I had or how the sections responded to each other. I was able to clarify that and now I'll be able to work it into the paper. And I'm happy it's over. My critic and Professor Prowe did most of the talking and only three other people made any comments at all, so it wasn't like being barraged by everyone in the class, which is sort of how I pictured it.
