Wednesday, December 12, 2007


 [we]blog · a · bi · lia (n.) [blog-uh-bil-ee-uh]
     -plural noun, singular -a · bi · le

1. digital scraps, orts.
2. points worthy of posting to a blog, esp. when they are underdeveloped and list-like.

[Origin: 2007, Earth Wide Moth; n. use of L blogābilia things to be blogged, neut. pl. of blogābilis blogable]

Tonight's will be a ten item list:

  • Blogabilia reminds me of the local liquor store chain in and around the Kansas City area called Berbiglia. The cut-off for friends who were drinking in college was when they could no longer mutter Berbiglia without spit flying from the mouth. Rarely, rarely did it come to this.
  • Bird Library sent me an automated message this morning explaining I had accumulated $30 in late fees for books due on 11/30. I jumped on the phone to the circulation desk and explained that up until this last summer, overdue notices arrived by email in time such that I could either 1.) renew online or 2.) expediently return the books to our fine library. The system has changed, I explained. On the other end: "We'll look into it. The software was updated over the summer." Aha! And so the debts were forgiven. I am once more in Bird's good graces.
  • Ph. has a chemistry project coming up that requires a caloric and substance analysis of a homemade goodie. It must include at least five ingredients. Up to five more ingredients will count toward extra credit. I'm open to any and all ten-ingredient suggestions you can make (in part because I don't feel like messing with the gingerbread cookies).
  • Yesterday I learned that PHP has an "explode function" for those arrays that reach a max size of 100,000. The factoid effectively detonates a planned portion (ciao, so long, arrivederci) of the diss.
  • I renewed the domain name, which means this blog will carry on through yet another year. Blog Day's not until after the New Year, but today's hosting renewal had to come first.
  • Today is the tenth birthday my mother has missed since she died suddenly and unexpectedly in the summer of '97. I still pause when I reiterate "suddenly and unexpectedly," as if I cannot mention her death with any other adverbs. There is a dull timelessness in those descriptors. I have dwelt on this before. Also, because she was a 12/12er and I am a 5/5er, I am especially keen on birthdays with a day/month match, like the one belonging to my nephew T., 11/11.
  • I was on campus earlier for a pair of practice job talks.
  • While I was on campus, I printed the first sixteen pages of chapter three. There is a certain shadowy corner to this moment in the chapter. The shadowy corner? In pre-dawn basketball workouts the shadowy corner was the part of the track where coach could not see whether we were actually running on the track or cutting the corner and running on the grass. Many of us kept to the track; a few did not. Nobody said anything about it. Describing this section of chapter three as a shadowy corner does not resolve for me whether I am thinking of it as a coach who cannot see or as a runner who faces the dilemma of either keeping to the paved lane or straying for efficiency's sake. It is worth mentioning in these terms because it is both (and, therefore, mildly conflicted).
  • Tonight I re-read Matsuda's chapter, "Coming to Voice: Publishing as a Graduate Student." I ran across it when I was leafing around in a pile of materials from the genre course I took in the summer of 2005. He writes: "Now that I have a tenure-track job, however, I have come to think of being a graduate student as a somewhat privileged status. At Purdue, I was only teaching three courses per year. I had no obligation to administer programs, serve on academic committees, or mentor graduate students, although I did so voluntarily" (50). Lest, in the fogs of dissertating, I forget.
  • The blogobilia were going to be ten-long. Was? Were? Was, I think. Was going to be ten-long.
    Maybe not.
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