Free toys

This toy retails at $130; I got it for free. (Yay me.) While out for our lunchtime walk, I got talking to a slightly odd couple a block from our house. They asked the usual "How old?" questions about Rose and Gus. But, sitting next to them, with a flapping free sign, was the beast in the photograph. In between my rehearsed explanation of Gus's lineage and apologies for his kisses, I was thinking of various methods of getting the "little tike" home. The couple quickly realized my dilemma, and the man took things upon himself. He asked for our house number, lifted the beast over his head and marched towards our house. I trailed behind him, desperately thanking him for his kindness as dirty water seeped out of holes onto his pristine polo-shirt and shorts. Sometimes, people are great.

Storm Damage

Last Thursday the weather scared me. We had a "micro burst" that attacked Philly with wind, hail, thunder and lightning. In less than ten minutes, power that I am unable to get my head around ripped up 200 year old trees and put the tot lot out of commission for three days. Our poor Rhododendron bush shows the scars of the storm.

Nurture Shock

I'm one and a third chapters into "Nurture Shock" and, if I take all the advice they have offered so far, I will be a parent who praises only Rose's actions and not Rose herself and sets a strict bedtime until she is 21. The book claims in the first chapter that overly praising your child can cause his or her brain to fail to create the connections needed for persistance. A child who is told they are fabulous, amazing, so smart, the best will be reluctant to try new things because failure means they are not living up to the praised perception of themselves. This has stuck quite a cord - I don't think I have the persistence connections. I always err on the side of avoiding new things (sports, languages, etc.) because of the possibility of failing. And if I do fail, I cannot deal with it. I becoming a crying, whining mess, I become a three year old.
The second chapter suggests that obesity, depression and ADHD all stem from children not getting enough sleep. I love that the one thing all kids hate - going to bed - is actually, probably, the most important thing that they could do to lead healthy, happy lives. Ah - life's little ironies.

just tired

I'm tired. It is 5.09pm and I feel bone tired. I'm cranky, hungry and don;t want to bother with Rose, Gus or anything else. I'd happily walk to my bedroom, shut the door and climb into bed. But I can't. Rose is crying, the sink is full of dirty dishes, dinner needs to be made and I have a paper to write. I'm just tired.
I think the problem is having no adult interaction all day. A day at home with a 9 month old has its undeniable pleasures, but it is exhausting - I have to carry her everywhere, she comes to the bathroom with me for f's sake and going anywhere takes warlike planning. I'm just tired and cranky and emotional. She's really crying now. I'm not sure if I can get up.

Cusp of crawling.

Rose is on the cusp of crawling; she will soon discover independence. For the last week she has graduated from reaching forward on her bum, accompanied by very unlady-like grunts, to reaching forward, lifting up her bum and falling onto her tummy. She is, unfortunately, unable to sit herself back up, so ends up in a beached whale pose on her back until someone can sit her back up. It is only a matter of time before she figures out what her legs are for and is away. I'm excited about that moment. Yes, it is going to be more work following a moving baby than sitting with a stationary baby, but I can watch her as she explores the house and goes where her little mind wants her to go. She is becoming her own little person and I love watching it happen in front of me.

Changing direction

I have my graduate class tonight which is not the most stimulating thing in the world. I have 12 credits left before I earn a masters degree in secondary education. Only problem is I'm not entirely convinced that secondary education is what I want to do. Thoughts of elementary ed, montessori or an entirely different career have been filling my head. Am I brave enough to completely change direction? If I do, what would I do?

I'm feeling incredibly confused and would love someone to take over the decision making.

moving forward

Major Amberton believes apartments will be a "novelty". Eugene Morgan was repeatedly heckled with the ridiculous chant of "git a hos" while out in his horseless carriage. Why are people so suspicious of change? How do lifestyle changes like moving from houses to apartments, from horse-drawn carriage to cars, from writing letters to sending email, from using formula to breastfeeding become the norm?
There is safety in normal - like reading a book, for example. You browse in a book shop or the library, pick up a reassuringly heavy paperback, scan the over, skim the blurb, put it back, repeat the process numerous times - maybe even read the first few pages. You choose one or two, return home to a comfortable chair or escape to bed and begin to read. You use a aged bookmark or dogear the page and put the book down to return to again in another free moment. Now, things are a changing. You can buy an ereader, read numerous reviews online and download a book in seconds. You turn the pages by clicking a button and it will remember the page you stopped at. I'm bristling as I write this. I'm reluctant to change, but I know, deep down, I inevitably will. My home may not have shelves lined with dusty books. I will just have a sleek machine on my bedside table.
Whether its how we spend our freetime, how we live or how we travel staying the same just isn't healthy. We need to move forward and evolve - it's just scary at times.

The Marvelous Ambertons

The title should be "The Marvelous Ambertons", The word marvelous is truly marvelous and tragically underused. It is far superior to great or excellent, it may even surpass my favorite over-the-top positive adjective brilliant. But, the title is magnificent - good, but not marvelous.

This author, Booth (really) Tarkington, seems to have a grudge against the fabulously wealthy, represented here by the Ambertons. Magnificence suggests a glittering life, a sparkling legacy and a dazzling prowess. In the first paragraph, however, we learn the Amberson's magnificence did indeed sparkle, but is a thing of the past. The novel is going to focus on their downfall from the pinnacle of magnificence. And I have a feeling the author will not be treating them kindly.

The first three chapters have whipped over the senior Amberson's building of a small empire in Midland, his daughter's marriage to a lowly husband, and the childhood of George, the grandson and our protagonist. He is already juicily unlikable. As a 10 year old, George tells a reverend to 'go to hell". I loved how his mother, Isabel, failed spectacularly to reprimand her son: ""He's just riff raff" said Georgie. "You musn't say so," his mother gently agreed."" I find myself daydreaming about my own upcoming motherly discipline moments, I hope I am not such a pushover.

So again there is a male protagonist and the setting is a different century. I am, however, hopeful. I mean what's better than see the filthy rich fall from grace.

Reading and The Brain

Why do women and girls prefer fiction? Is there a difference in the brains of men and women that lead to reading material preferences? I have to think there must be. The most-emailed article in the New York Times http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/01/books/01lit.html?pagewanted=2&ref=homepage&src=me describes a new area of study in literature departments: fiction and the brain. Scholars are now mapping how our minds respond to literature and what this love, or hatred, of storytelling can tell us about evolution. I think that the differences between male and female reading habits must also be linked to our brains and evolution.

This has a major impact on my IR program next year. I cannot force students who don't like to read novels to read novels. My ultimate goal is to instill a love of reading because it exposes you to aspects of life and the world you didn't know about before. Reading, in any guise, expands your knowledge. The IR program needs to allow students to read magazines, newspapers, comics, poetry, blogs, and fiction. I hope this is one way to help the boys feel more comfortable with the program and even embrace it.

A slight detour

My challenge changed direction today. 316 pages into Pickwick - 200 more than my cut off - I gave up. There were just too many words; a lengthy paragraph was devoted to every gesture, movement or event . Some were beautifully written, but it was too much. It makes me feel bad to write this - Dickens is one of Britain's finest authors and here I am complaining about his wordiness. Apparently, to keep my attention, the writer needs to get to the point quickly. Has my uncultured inner-self been exposed? Here I am trying to read the top 100 novels and I have slogged through two and given up on the third. But, is it me or is it the novels? I have struggled to find any point of contact with any of the characters and plots of the books. The books have been about men, by men in a time and place I do not inhabit. I tell my students again and again the joy of reading comes with the connections you can make with the story. I have no connections so I have had no joy.

So, a new direction. Firstly, I have changed my list. I am now reading the Modern Library's top 100 novels of the 20th Century. (Marginally closer to the time I am living in). Scanning the list, it again is almost devoid of female authors; Virginia Woolfe is the lone lady in the top 20. This may be another disaster, but I'm going to give it a go. In at 100 is The Magnificent Ambertons, a realist novel about a rich American family losing it all in the wake of the Industrial Revolution. I fear a struggle for connections on this one too and I haven't opened it. Must think positive. And must stick to my 100 page rule. I'd prefer my challenge not to make me feel bad about myself.

cut down so early in life

For my mummy book club I am reading "What Our Mother's Didn't Tell Us" by Danielle Crittenden. The first paragraph of chapter two, titled "Love", included the following quote: "- if such a young woman decides to get married, say, before she is twenty-five - she risks being regarded by her friends as a tragic figure, spoken of the way wartime generations once mourned the young men killed in battle "How unfortunate, with all that promise, to be cut down so early in life."" (p. 60) That's me. I have never before thought of myself as a tragic figure, but I wonder how many others have thought of me that way.

I am the only wife and mother in my circle of friends. I am an anomaly. Maybe this explains why it has been so hard for me to find close girl-friends. I have made choices that alienated me from everyone else; such as, a long-term relationship with a man living in a different country, a wedding at 23, a new life in a foreign country, a baby at 27. I'm certainly not a stereotypical profile for the pages of Cosmopolitan. But, have I got it all wrong or has everyone else got it all wrong?

The choices I have made have led me to a life where I am in love, happy, financially stable and secure. I don't think I can say the same about any of my friends. Some people would accuse me of taking the easy route; they may say I found a man to look after me and avoided any of the real work that comes with making it alone, or surviving independently by securing a good job and home on your own merit. There is a part of me that would agree, but why do we now have to prove our womanhood by "making it alone". I do not think that this is making women happier or more fulfilled. Of course some women thrive on independence and drive, while others require support and status-quo. I, without any premeditation, have managed to end up with the best of both worlds - support and personal success. I am not a soldier cut down in his or her prime.

Ultimately, I am happy that Rose will grow up a world where she will have the choice to become a modern independent woman or a more traditional codependent woman or anywhere in between. But, I hope, when she is making he decisions, nobody is judging her choices and comparing her to dead soldiers.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/28/magazine/28FOB-WWLN-t.html

thoughts on parenting

We came to some big parenting conclusions tonight. We want Rose to be a happy, confident, lucky-in -love young lady. I think the first two are controllable, the third, unfortunately, is not. As parents, we are in control of our child's happiness. We can provide a stable loving home, a dysfunctional, abusive home or anything in between. Whatever we provide for here is going to go a long way in determining the person our little girl will become. Of course nurture and nature interact together - but we are in charge of the nurture side and I determined to make it as happy and stable as possible.
For me that doesn't mean she will be receiving the best toys or clothes, going to the best private school. We don;t want those things and cannot afford them. Instead I am going to focus on my marriage and myself so I am happy. She may only have clothes from Target in her wardrobe, but she will have all the support, love and attention we can offer. But, she will have to get used to Mum and Dad's date nights.
I went to a mummy book club tonight. The other women there were all new mothers and back at work full-time as lawyers, landscape architects and school psychologists. The discussion was about finding that elusive balance between work and motherhood. Society seems to look down on motherhood; instead, a prestigious career is the ultimate goal of the modern women, children, if they do happen, come after the job. You have made it when you are successful in your career. Obviously, every woman is different, but I came away feeling that my job doesn't give me the sense of fulfillment I get from motherhood. I'm sure that I would be looked down on by some because of that. But, ultimately, it doesn't matter what a passing acquaintance or even a close friend thinks about your life choices - if you have found personal happiness in whatever guise it may be you have made it.

Skeleton of spokes

It has been raining all day. On four different occasions I found myself desperately trying to right an inside out umbrella and its ugly skeleton of spokes with a bundled baby strapped to my chest and a dripping dog lunging to eat some street crap. I screamed "fuck" the fourth time.
At these moments I catch myself envying people seemingly unburdened by responsibilities like students riding bikes or women with only a handbag to carry. Drivers must have watched me struggle today and thought glad that's not me. At more less frazzled moments I know I love having the responsibilty of caring for a baby (the dog not so much), but I do miss the freedom to just leave the house and go somewhere, anywhere with just a handbag.

The Pickwick Papers

I'm on p. 112 of The Pickwick Papers. The jovial title man has just been involved in a high speed horse and "chaise" chase. No one - man or beast - was hurt. A couple of times during the action Dickens referred to the carriage traveling at an unsettling speed of 15 miles per hour. I imagine the same scene today as the equivalent of two Cadillacs racing over mud at 100 miles per hour. Someone - or something - would have died in the updated version. While reading, this is one example that illustrates how the material aspects of life have completely changed since Pickwick's time, but human interactions, human idiosyncrasies and human idiocy remain exactly the same.

I love the premise of the book; four men travel around the country and record their observations of British life. Simple and something I would quiet happily spend my time doing. As Dickens first book, I like to imagine that he turned a love of people watching into the entry point to his writing career. So far the antics of the characters in Pickwick, like Scoop and Lucky Jim, are annoyingly juvenile, but the description is sumptuous. Dicken's characterization is like portraiture; he shows you every angle of every person. For example, Sam's first impression of Wardle's lawyer Mr. Perker of Grey's Inn: "He was a little high dried man with a dark squeezed up face, and small, restless black eyes, that kept winking and twinkling on each side of his little inquisitive nose, as if they were playing a perpetual game of peep-bo with that feature..." (p. 118) We know immediately that we are to dislike this man (there is something very unsettling about small dark eyes). Dickens doesn't like lawyers and makes this very clear with those few withering lines.

with work still comes stress

I had a knot of anxiety in my chest all day yesterday. Two of my five classes on Tuesday did not go well; they had a combination of poor lesson planning and defiant attention grabbing students. I spent hours reading, thinking and planning about classroom management, regaining control and improving the lessons. I also spent all that time being angry with myself. Why was I letting it get to me? Why could I not forget about school and concentrate on my daughter? At one point I found reading a management book while sitting next to Rose. Not good. My focus needs to be on her.

I know that wanting to be a success is not a bad thing. I just don't want my work life to encroach on my family life in the way it did yesterday. This is probably the impossible balance that so many mothers are striving for. How can you juggle being a Mum and being a working woman? I want to be a good role model for Rose. I want her to know that playtime is just that, work time happens at another time. I need to get better at this. No more working while Rose is up, no more checking email while Rose it up. Really, there is nothing to check.

I do need to make sure we get out and do something each day - being in the house all day long is difficult. There is a good network of Mums in the neighborhood - we are all going through the same conflicts with work and motherhood and it is so helpful to hear other people's stories. This is what makes me so angry with myself. I am in a fabulous position - 2 days of work a week. I need to get some perspective and get out of my head. There are much more important things to think about than a couple of defiant teenagers - I have a daughter now.

Creativity void

I watched a fascinating talk about creativity given by Sir Ken Robinson. He argues that the current education system kills creativity. The whole system, in his view, is a "12 year preparation course" for university; it, therefore, stymies any talents or skills that are useless for a university career - dance, drama, art, music, anything with your hands. As I am in the early stages of teaching a SAT prep class, his theory is particularly interesting. I'm teaching these kids how to pass a test that gets them into university. My lessons are filled with "top tips" and "triggers" that the kids are meant to memorize to become "smart test takers". I'm teaching a class devoid of any smidgen of creativity. It's depressing to write this, let alone deal with the actual reality of it. Needless to say, I'm struggling with the class. But, to go to college the kids need to take this test. I want them to do well, but I'd much prefer a system where they can shine with their natural skills not shine with their ability to take a test well.

Obviously, this leads me to think about Rose and her future education. I'm already investigating all the different options and am intrigued by the Montessori model. From what I can gather so far, a student's learning is guided by self-discovery and personal interests, rather than teacher mandated assignments. I'm going to do a lot more research, but I like the sound of it so far.

Pickwick paper is started and it is BIG. There may need to be a renewel on this one.

99 bottles sitting on the wall

Scoop is finished. "Uproariously funny" "ingenious" "hilarious" are a sample of the back cover reviews, I'm not so convinced. It was silly, but filled with overt racism that made my stomach turn. Not so easy to belly laugh when the ugly words of my grandfather's generation pepper the pages. Scoop satirized the newspaper business. He ridiculed its controllers and its methods by creating bumbling characters like William and Theodore Boot and powerful idiots like Lord Copper. Women didn't come out very well either; Katchen was a gold-digging cheat and William's female relatives never left their house. Mrs. Stitch, however, was a high point in the novel. Her power over the male characters was an unexpected and happy plot element and ultimately, the cause of all the ensuing trouble.

My rankings:

1. Scoop by Evelyn Waugh (a silly account of mistaken identity and disquieting racism)
2. Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis (a tedious journey into university faculty)

Next up....Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens (I'm excited about this one.)

Evelyn is a man

We are in the midst of Philadelphia's biggest snowstorm. I have never seen anything like it. Total accumulation could be 38 inches. Larchwood Avenue looks like a ski resort; vague figures wield snow shovels in swirling snow, cars crawl by hauling high-hats of snow on their roofs, and off-lead dogs bound through drifts. It could be horribly dangerous if we actually had to go anywhere, but we are home, in the warm and have netflix for entertainment - though the milk levels are getting low.

I finished book two of "Scoop" and seem to have lost interest. I am, therefore, a little confused about the action. Book two deals with William's adventures in Ishmealia. In a nutshell, journalists are sent there because of potential civil conflict. A story of a Russian incursion is broken by one of the newspaper men, but disproved by some wrangling by other newspaper men. All the jouranlists are tricked into going to a imaginary town called "laku" or "I don't know" except for the hero William. Mr. Benito, a revolutionary front man, attempts to get William out of the city, but William is too interested in staying and wooing a gold-digging, married Polish girl. Mr. Benito and his Russian compadres overthrow the Jackson government and William is the only press to witness the events. In the meantime, the husband of the Polish girl returns and the couple leave in William's canoe. Left in the capital, William reconnects with a rich Brit, Mr. Baldwin, who turns out to own the mineral interests of the country. A swede on a motorbike crashes into a bar, discovers, via William and Mr. Baldwin, that a revolution has taken place, storms the palace and kills Benito and his gang. Again, William is the only one to report the events, except he is so inept Mr. Baldwin writes the piece for him. Remember, Mr. Baldwin seems to own the country.

It seems ridiculous, but is "Scoop" really that far from reality. Journalists are given the responsibility to report the facts about the story they are covering. Clueless William is the only voice covering a story of world importance and he is being manipulated by every side. How can we trust the news that we read? Is it possible to report facts without some opinion or bias seeping in? It's entirely possible for all newspaper stories to be complete fabrications, but we believe it because it is all we have. Scoop was written in the 1930s. Now technology has advanced to the point that the truth should be easier to attain; we have live blogging, twitter, video, cell phones that let the public see, hear and read about events practically in real time. Does this remove the bias? Or does this just clog up the news? Instead of having just one voice (however unreliable), the public now has hundreds of different voices to listen to.

Back to work

Today, I went back to work. It was an intense day filled with high points and low points. I'm teaching 125 students how to take the SAT test; not the most riveting if subjects. I'm, also, a little rusty and a new face for a lot of the kids. But let's start with positive. I arrived at 8.00am and got hugs and smiles from every teacher I passed. I got to my room and two students from last year presented me with a vase of orange lilies. I had a couple of classes filled with kids I taught last year and they were fabulous. I have a great team teacher who supported me all day. On the negative side, the classes I did not know decided to test the new teacher. The first class was a train wreck; constant talking, disruption, requests for bathroom. There were moments when I was looking at them all ignoring me and thinking what the hell am I doing. My principle came into my room during that class. The other two classes were a lot better, but I was a hell of a lot firmer. I have some challenges waiting for me at work. But, I got to come home to my beautiful family, feed my little girl, share dinner with my husband and cuddle on a couch. Life is good. The odd challenge just makes you stronger!

Scooping

For the past few months I have been feeding Rose once a night (approx. 3 am), but we have been getting out of bed at least 4 more times and responding to cries. At each hint of a cry, we would stumble into the pitch-black nursery. Leaning over the crib, we would search the crib for the expelled pacifier, search for Rose's mouth and replace the pacifier. Her crying would stop and we would stumble back to bed. Obviously there were two major problems: Rose is getting a horrible nights sleep because she has become attached to sleeping with the pacifier and we are getting a horrible nights sleep because of the frequent replacement trips.

In the last few weeks, I started to feel conflicted about how non-attachment parenting we are. I think I may have been slowly brainwashed by the birth center groupies. How natural is it for a baby to sleep alone? Should Rose be alone in her nursery for so long? This nagging thoughts kept entering my mind. On Friday it all came to a head. We had a vigorous debate about what we should do about the nighttime yo-yo hall walking. It slowly became clear to me that now at 6 months she needs to learn to sleep and self-sooth. My nagging thoughts were a little late. So we waded into crying it out. At 2 am that night, we fought through 45 minutes of crying - soothing every 5 minutes, and eventually she slept. Last night she slept until 5.30am, with middle of the night whimpers.

It seems successful, but is incredibly hard. The crying physically hurts. I'm on my own today and she is having her lunchtime nap right now. 30 minutes into it she started to cry. I went to sooth after 5 minutes and made things so much worse. It took another 15 minutes for her to sleep - crying the whole time. She woke up again 20 minutes later and we did the whole thing again. While the monitor wails I look longingly at the pacifiers in the kitchen; if I gave her the dummy there would be silence in a second. But, I have to be strong. This is the beginning of a lifetime of setting boundaries. Just like teaching, consistency is key and unbelievably difficult.

I've just finished the first part of "Scoop" and it is kicking "Lucky Jims" arse. It is still populated by wealthy, pompous British folk doing ridiculous things, but this time is actually funny. An episode of mistaken identity led to William Boot, a reclusive, nature-loving, part time columnist, being sent to cover the civil war in Ishmealia, a north African country "difficult to get to from every direction" instead of the popular writer John Boot. Poor William is out of his depth. His publisher has given him instructions on how to report on the war, regardless of the actual truth. Scoop is all about the power of the media. I imagine William is going to get into all kinds of trouble and have an enormous impact on the British public's view of Ishmelia and possibly the outcome of the war itself. Does this happen all the time?

1 down 99 to go

Well, Lucky Jim is finished. Desperate for the thing to be finished, I skimmed over the last few pages, happily closed it and threw it, a little hard, away the other end of our overly huge couch. I needed it to be away from me. It was like a Morecombe and Wise sketch; funny 50 years ago, but just bemusing now.
Dixon, the nail-scrapingly painful hero, floundered through one slapstick situation to the next. One minute burning holes in bed clothes, the next fighting the absurdly named Bertrand like a teenage girl, then finally fainting on stage after drunkenly bumbling his way through a "Merrie England" lecture. After all of this, he somehow ended up with the prized job and the pretty girl. He didn't deserve the happy ending.
It was a story about questioning the status quo. This must be the reason it's included in the 100. Dixon represents a "new" man who fails miserably to fit in with the old-boy world of the university. The problem is he doesn't have any desire to be part of that world; it is like he was blindfolded and dropped into his life against his will. Grow a pair Dixon.
I did giggle at the lecture scene but Lucky Jim annoyed the crap out of me. I'm hopeful things will look up with book 99.

Next up: Scoop by Evelyn Waugh. Thanks to "Lost in Translation" the only thing I know is Evelyn is a man. Those were some funny parents.

Sunday brunch

We had a wonderful brunch today; a three courses banquet of mango and sweet potato soup, banana and bacon french toast, and chicken fried chicken eggs benedict. It was a pleasure to be out with my family. We really haven't been doing it enough. We have been trying so hard to get a regular schedule going with Rose and I finally feel that we are have achieved it. The problem now is that interrupting the schedule with outings etc. means Rose is cranky for the remainder of the day. But a little crankiness is much more preferable than staying in every weekend.

I've been spending so much time in the house it has become stale in my eyes, but I have little desire to spruce it up. I think going back to work part-time will be a very good thing. I'll get some space from home me, while getting back into work me. I miss the act of work - bringing in money, being relied on, planning and preparing for a new day. I do not want the demands of last year, but there is a part of me that has missed it. Being a mother brings immense responsibility, yet I want the responsibilities of work as well. Do I want too much? Is the balance that everyone gripes about ever really attainable?

Not such a Lucky Jem

The challenge is off to a halting start. This week has been hampered by a pain in the arse cold/flu thing that will not give in. I have spent the last five days trapped in a lethargic, depressed, stir crazy state that really needs to end. I keep thinking that it has, and then it hits again. I'm now resorting to wine - tea just isn't comforting me anymore. It's a slippery slope!

Anyway, Lucky Jim is being read, but in five minute bursts before falling into cough wracked sleep. I then pick up the book again and have to reread everything from the previous night. Needless to say there are good and bad points so far. On the positive side, the book has a lighthearted colloquial style. Faulkner at this point may have killed the challenge before it had even begun. Jim, a recent University hire, has, so far, been stuck in situations with people he doesn't want to be with - a baboon-like boss, bosses son he already started a fight with and girlfriend (?) who has recently tried to kill herself. He spends a lot of time making fun of these people and doing supposed hilarious faces behind their backs. This has not endeared me to Jim. Knowing a lot of university professors, Jim really doesn't seem like a successful candidate. He seems to hate his subject (Medieval history), hate teaching and cannot stand schmoozing with his colleagues. I predict he will have changed jobs and girlfriends by the end of the book.

Why is this in the top 100? Maybe because it shows academia in a negative light? It's a groundbreaking 1960s attack on the establishment. For me it's a man who doesn't really know what he wants getting drunk and ruining bed sheets.

My Challenge

I'm inspired by Julie and Julia. Watching the film on the flight from England to Philly with a cranky baby, I came up with my own challenge. Instead of cooking my way through a cookbook, I am going to read my way through "Penguins Classic's 100 Classic Books You Must Read Before You Die" . This challenge has a thrifty budget - I plan to check out each book from Philadelphia Free Library. This means I have three weeks to read each book, so I'll be done in 300 weeks or 6 years. Crap, now I have written that this seems like a bit of a extreme undertaking.

Challenge Rules (because I am an anal teacher)

1. Books must be checked out of the Free Library of Philadelphia.
2. Books must be read in the three weeks allowed by the library.
3. There must be at least two blog entries per book.
4. I can only give up on books after reading the first 100 pages.

First up is Lucky Jim by Kinsley Amis. I thought it would be a Conradesque novel (probably because of Lord Jim), but after reading the blurb it is about 1950s university professors in England. Judging the book by its cover. the chances of me reading this outside of the challenge would be zero. But, happily I have no choice in the reading materials. All I have to do is read and opine.