As I have mentioned previously, my spawn does ballet, which at this time of year means 5 hours a week minimum of Nutcracker.

This year, she is in the junior company proper, which means she has several different roles, and her parents are required to “volunteer” help with the production. (I say “volunteer” in this way because it isn’t actually optional, and I am pretty sure that if I didn’t, some hefty teenage ballerina would offer to break my arms.)

Feckless husband has slithered out of his volunteering responsibilities by being utterly booked up with paying gigs on the performance dates, which paying gigs he deliberately accepted for the sole purpose of not having to volunteer at Nutcracker performances, which means that I was the one to shoulder the volunteer commitment. Through a series of unfortunate events, I have ended up as Stage Manager for 3 shows. Expect tales of chaos.

So, yesterday was our first big run-through of the whole show with an entire cast, and I was sitting at the side of the studio being coached, I mean terrified, by people who have been Stage Manager, who kept saying helpful things like “Now, at this moment, you will have 15 seconds to completely clear the stage, so make sure you have given everyone a specific task, and hopefully no one will die,” and “the fog machine is not that tricky, but of course you have to make sure it isn’t too early or too late, and the person using the fog machine is in some danger of losing fingers”. I AM SURE IT WILL ALL BE FINE.

Anyway, we get to the part where Sugar Plum is supposed to do a pas de deux with Cavalier, and she gets up, but Cavalier is not there, because he’s a professional hired to come in later, but as it happens we haven’t managed to hire one yet, on account of the Winter Olympics. People say this to me as if it makes sense, and I don’t want to look like a moron by asking “How is it on account of the Winter Olympics?”

So, anyway, it transpires that there is a search on, but we don’t have one yet, and the Artistic Director (otherwise known as the head of the ballet school) is still searching, and asking everyone to get her contacts, and maybe there is this guy, but he doesn’t have a phone. It’s a bit tense.

And then I, prompted by some Demon of Internet Frivolity say, “Well, if worst comes to worst, we can always drape a banner across the stage that says ‘Invisible Cavalier is Invisible’.” And there is dead silence. At which point it dawns on me that ballet parents are not internets people.

Dubious advice on how not to pack soup in your bag, lost and found, making choux pastry, dating someone with kids, having a feminist epiphany, whether biography is a dead art, and how to recognize a chick flick. As always, we have a Dubious Sex Toy of the week, and our recommendations.

FYCL #13, if you are still doing the old-fashioned-y downloading of each episode, rather than subscribing with our shiny new rss or via iTunes.

Not much linkage this week:

• Alison Bechdel’s seminal comic defining chick flicks, and a nice list of movies rated according to the definition.
• I suggested SJ needed to check out espe for a new wallet.
• Freakonomics blog – Superfreakonomics is homework reading for a future podder.
• Terry Pratchett talks to the Guardian about Alzheimers.

Dubious Vintage Sex Toy – a first! We have no idea where this came from originally, but here it is in all its glory. (I was going to put a modesty line, but seriously, it doesn’t even look that rude, or perhaps my perceptions of “rude” have been warped.)

Fascinating side note: FYCL now comes up if you do  a google search for “dubious genitalia”.

Closing music is “Smells like Teen Spirit,” as rendered by the Flying Pickets. Just because.

A reminder: although only the most recent 3 episodes are live in iTunes, you can always access back episodes of FYCL in our archive at uppitywomen.org/media/

So, today my Chair says, “have you got a minute,” which we all know is never good news, but I SWARE my conscience is clear.

So, I chase him down and he’s all like “There’s a complaint about your midterm,” and my mind immediately goes to the Groomer, but I haven’t even marked the midterms yet, so you know, what kind of complaint could she have? So I give this a moment to play out, and he asks if I can explain the circumstances of how the midterm unfolded.

My Chair is generally a good guy and all, but he has this habit of assuming that you know what he is talking about, which in this case I have no fucking clue, so I am just describing what happened, which is as follows:

The class is 50 minutes long and meets at 9, and so it’s a bit hard to have a full-on srs midterm, but by starting early because the room is empty and maybe squeezing a couple more minutes in at the end, in the changeover gap between classes, I tell them they can likely get a reasonable length essay written. So he says “yes, this seems to have been the problem”, which, you will agree, in no way explains what the fuck the problem is.

So, I say, I told them they could come in early, and about 80% of them were indeed in the room when I got there at 8:45, so we got underway, and the rest trickled in. So far so good. Then, at 9:50, there were a few students left and I told them to finish up, and I went outside and apologized to the person I thought was the teacher and said “They are just finishing up their midterm.” And this person said “Oh, no problem”.

Apparently, though, “Oh, no problem” is code for “This is such a problem that Ima report you to MY chair, who will then have YOUR chair say that there is a request for you to be reprimanded for disadvantaging students who needed to sit a midterm and also you have to write a formal apology”.

And I am all like “Dude, I am happy to apologize, because I thought I already did, but isn’t this a bit much of a rigamarole over 5 minutes, which 5 minutes was part of the 10 minutes changeover, and not in any way 5 minutes of this person’s actual class time?” And he says “Are you sure it was only 5 minutes?” And I said “Yes, because I was on time to my class that started at 10am”.

And then he’s like flipping through some papers on his desk saying “I need to get the details of this a bit clearer then”. And I am dismissed, still mystified, but now with one burning question -

WHO THE FUCK IS SUCH AN UPTIGHT ASSHOLE THAT THEY MAKE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT ABOUT SOMEONE WHO GOES 5 MINUTES OVER TIME INTO THE GAP BETWEEN CLASSES?

This one has been slowly building to a head. Rather like a boil.

Once upon a time in the first week of semester, I received a series of emails from a student who was “really keen” to be in my class. My class, the delightful centre of elite learning that it was, would totally complete her semester, make her erudite in the ways of literature, and quite possibly cure her acne. Could I get her in? Sadly, no amount of fairy-farting flattery could make it in my power to let her in, but she could keep checking the list, because it was still add-drop.

Well. Eventually she got in, at which point it became apparent that the real reason she wanted to be in my class was to sit next to her boyfriend, a mild-mannered young man, who is slightly, but not all that much, more capable as a student. They share books, so that is probably another reason. Nothing to do with my overall reputation for fabulousness in professoring, after all.

Having joined the class late, this little treasure then proceeded to further tarnish her attendance record by coming to class only about once a week, although class meets 3 times a week, giving her many more opportunities to join me for a little light literary discussion. When I responded to an email excusing yet another absence with a suggestion that she perhaps needed to be a little more dedicated in the class attending department, she gave me to understand that she was very busy and important, and that really, it was no business of mine what she did with her time.

The due date for the first essay came. I gave the essays that came in a cursory glance, checking for dead ducks, and found that there were several in need of duck removal. Out of the kindness of my heart, I gave the owners of these duck documents a few moments to make their adjustments. The Groomer’s essay was very ducky, but when I called her name, she was nowhere to be seen. You may imagine her reaction to receiving the designated D for Duck grade: the word “unfair” was used liberally.

I am clearly not performing up to scratch in the spoonfeeding department, as the Groomer informed me a few weeks ago, by asking exasperatedly if I was “ever going to tell us what is on the midterm, or what.” Given that the midterm was 3 weeks away, I responded that I didn’t feel the urgency, and was admonished by a huffy sigh.

I would like to say, in my defense, that while it crossed my mind to wait the short interval until the Groomer was absent from class to reveal the ultra-secret midterm information (aka “you have to write an essay on Gatsby“), I resisted the temptation. This is because I am not in any way prejudiced against her. I give you this as an insight into subsequent events.

In this class, I have a requirement for a number of mini-assignments, marked on a pass or fail basis, which, I am assured, is just the kind of asshole thing Professors like me do in order to drag down the A students who prefer to procrastinate, writing one paper (probably at 2am) and pulling out a miracle A-. These brighter, more deserving, but lazier students resent the opportunity I am giving to plodders who do all the required work to essentially get a free 10%.

These assignments I mark with a checkmark if they are decent, a few pertinent comments if they are barely passable, and with a “ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING” if they don’t manage to meet the pathetically minimal requirements. The Groomer has managed to hand in a few misspelled atrocities, which I have passed, but have also spent a few minutes pointing out the worst of her spelling and grammatical errors, in the vain hope that she would notice and try to improve.

At the mid point of the semester, then, she is scraping by, saved by the pass/fail nature of the gimme assignments, which information is no doubt making some A student somewhere grind his or her teeth.

Then we come to Friday’s class. The Groomer wandered in 15 minutes late, and proceded to do the following, from her seat in the front row for the remaining 30 minutes of class:

• check email
• moisturise hands
• giggle with boyfriend
• comb hair
• use fingernail to clean speck of something off the arm of glasses
• rearrange hairstyle
• check email again.

You will notice that a) none of these things involved looking at her textbook (which never came out of her bag), or participating in class discussion. Oh, and did I mention she sits in the front row? Most people who don’t want to pay attention have the decency to sit further back.

At the end of class, I asked to have a word, and gently suggested that she could do a better job of paying attention, rather than, say moisturising, which, while important, can be accomplished before or after class time. Her response? “Well, my hands were dry.”

I let it go at this point. It’s no skin off my nose if she gets a zero for participation, after all. Then, on Saturday, I received an email complaining about my attitude. You see, I have a “bais opinion towards” her.  You know how she knows? Other people receive checkmarks on their work, while she receives comments, instead of the “proper checkmark”.

Got that? Feedback is evidence of prejudice. If I liked her, no doubt I would give her the proper grade of an A, and write no useless messy comments on her paper.

I was going to write a huge screed protesting this recockulous accusation, but then I did some soul-searching, and you know what? I think she might be right. I do have a bias opinion towards students who incompetently fail to follow instructions and basic standards of hygeine and grammar, and I express them by writing comments on their work.

It’s a fair cop.

Dubious advice on quitting and getting fired, learning to cook, negotiating the fine line between supporting women and being uncritical of nonsense, and the gendering of Halloween costumes. As always, there are Dubious Sex Toys and our recommendations for the week.

FYCL #12, if you are still doing the old-fashioned-y downloading of each episode, rather than subscribing with our shiny new rss or via iTunes.

See alsos:

• boing boing pointed out the horrid Ana Rexia costume.
• Baby cannibalism from Martha Stewart – check the horrified look on the poor babby’s face.
• Dubious sex toys, as always click at own risk: bear with unreal vagina from regretsy, and dick thickener.

No comment on closing music; looks like it wasn’t just the knitting that was home-made this week.

Dubious advice on yoga balls, why feminists don’t judge, or at least why they should try to get over it; how not to introduce your significant other to your parents, the secret feminism in Monsters vs Aliens, both dubious and non-dubious sex toys, and recommendations interrupted by shocking breaking news.

FYCL #11, if you are still doing the old-fashioned-y downloading of each episode, rather than subscribing with our shiny new rss or via iTunes.

Linkucopia:

• The original post about the Uncanny Valley Ralph Lauren ad on boingboing, and follow-up.
• Awesome convo between Rachel Maddow and the post’s author, Xeni Jardin.
• Jezebel reports on the model, Filippa Hamilton, being fired for being too fat.
• Dove Evolution on youtube, if you haven’t seen it.
• Non-dubious sex toy (click at own risk) – Sqweel review (with video) from Gizmodo, available from Love Honey.
• Extremely dubious femimints, and the expose from Mother Jones about how they are just Admints.
• Awesome and massive collection of Anglo-Saxon treasures with slideshows at the Staffordshire Hoard.
• Fuck Yeah, Rachel Maddow.
• Shocking balloon hoax!

Closing music is “I Can See Clearly Now” by Holly Cole.

Leave your feedback, comments, sex flavour recipes and similar here.

Dubious advice on balancing work and motherhood and collaboration in creative endeavours and the workplace. Dubious sex toy of the week features a new segment, Ask a Dude.

FYCL #10, if you are still doing the old-fashioned-y downloading of each episode, rather than subscribing with our shiny new rss or via iTunes.

Linkipedia:

• Movies, Censorship and the “Myth” of Female Ejaculation on Jezebel.
• Dubious sex toy of the week is the Fleshlight. As always, click at own risk, which warning also applies to the hilarious ED page on the Fleshlight, which is not for the easily offended.
• Awesome and hilarious review of Fleshlight Motion on gizmodo.
• Peer Pressure, aka the dudes who hump furniture.
• SJ’s recommendations this week were Ill Doctrine and Tastespotting.
• I loved the terrible craft items on regretsy; interestingly, there was a post today about how being featured on regretsy is boosting stats for some of the better-made but tasteless items.
• Rhayden recommended cool ponderings on Surviving the World, and the tragi-comedy of I Broke My Penis.

Super special thanks to our awesome guest, Rhayden.

Closing music was inspired by the photo from Encyclopedia Dramatica, entitled “a typical Fleshlight setup”: Weird Al Yankovic was clearly tapping into some deep-seated nerdly romantic fantasies with his “Yoda” song.

ETA: WTF, WordPress, having a “moment” when we were trying to get the podder live.

Both literally and metaphorically. The weather here is crazy, dude. 2 weeks ago, we were bitching and moaning about it being 30, and now it we have snow, although not the kind that sticks or requires actual snowboots. Which is good, because my snowboots got a recurring hole.

Speaking of snowflakes, man, are they ever coming down in blizzard-like formations in class. What was the trigger? First assignments, of course.

I had a drift of them ignore my comments about how MLA had been updated. Updated, I might add by a group of guys who were apparently smoking crack, because I cannot find one person to explain the logic of the MLA updates, although dear old OWL at Purdue makes a stab at summarizing the changes. They stay the hell away from trying to explain them, though.

Srsly, MLA, WTF is up with the italics; no, underline; no, either; no, italics dance? MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MINDS.

But I digress. Despite warnings, dire warnings, that relying on previous MLA knowledges would be utter fail, naturally about half of them tumbled into the trap for heffalumps.

In other snowflake news, the words “DO NOT EMAIL ASSIGNMENTS TO ME, ASSHOLES, I WILL SHIV YOU” have no meaning for at least 6 out of every 30 students. One of these jerks, told by return email to shape the fuck up and hand his work in in the approved manner, had the gall to approach me in the lunch line and attempt to hand in his work.

The lunch line.

Boundaries, dude. When I am about to enjoy my fries with tatziki, do I want to do it in view of your tragic scribblings? I do not.

Dubious advice on outre artistic expression, being Canadian in an American world, and the stupidity of trying to legislate the internets, plus our regularly featured Dubious Sex Toy of the week, and other recommendations.

FYCL #9, if you are still doing the old-fashioned-y downloading of each episode, rather than subscribing with our shiny new rss or via iTunes.

Linkety link links:

• Your friendly neighbourhood menstrual blood artists on livejournal.
• The awesome menstrual cup group on LJ; not just divacups, but so full of infos.
• Fimo genitalia pendants and other objects from VulvaLoveLovely.
• Wired’s summary of the proposed cyberbullying bill.
• The NYT article suggests Jason Fortuny was the “Megan had it coming” troll.
• Dubious sex toy of the week is offensive to the prudish and the pious, a double win, so click at your own risk: Baby Jesus Buttplug.
• Self-reflexive homoshame mockery on homoshame.
• Youtube in four minutes.
• Wonderful, fabulous Kate Harding has the last word necessary on Polanski.

Oh, also, an explanatory note for those of you who don’t know that “souping” means flouncing out. To soup: to leave, in an ostentatious manner, often while commenting that you are never coming back.

The thematic sacrilege naturally made me think of Randy Newman, so I picked “God’s Song” for the closing musics.

Hope you enjoy the podcast, please to be leaving threats of hellfire, feedback and questions here.

So, as I mentioned on the podder, I went to this 2 hour meeting at which my dear 6pt cheater plead her case, at length, to a jury of her peers and mine. The board members, as they are called, were very impressively non-partisan, and professional, and I came out of the hearing convinced that I could well trust their judgement, but I was not 100% sure of what that outcome would be.

The final report arrived a couple days ago, and, in short, it upheld the original penalty. So, after 4 months of whining, and complaining, and driving everyone concerned a little nuts with her behaviour (everyone who talked to her had meetings that went for at least an hour, every time), 6pt managed to achieve exactly nothing, except that now she has an official “cheater” tag, and has managed to irritate several people. As my Head of Department said, “that will teach her not to paste an essay on a handout for an exam, except it probably won’t.”

The written report of the hearing was very interesting; while for the most part, it was an objective summary of events, there were a couple of points at which the language went from temperate to snippy. It described 6pt as elaborating at length about how she thought what she did was okay, and going on and on and on about how she had no intention to cheat, and then there was the curt sentence “the board deemed that motivation was irrelevant”. The conclusion also betrayed some annoyance, saying that the jury members expected 6pt to appeal the decision as she showed no respect for the process, and did not seem to listen to what was said. FYCL, was my response.

So a win in this battle, but what about the war?

For my part, this experience has added another dead duckism to my course outline, which raises for me some serious issues about expectations. Should I really have to tell my students not to try to sneak prepared essays into an examination? Is it right for me to laugh at the guy who waited 6 weeks before asking what he should do about missing his exam? Ought there to be a pineapple clause, explaining appropriate behaviour when meeting with your professor? Where are these lines?

Sarcastic Bastard suggested that perhaps articulating dead duck rules might be part of the problem; that our students are so used to being told what to do and doing just what they are told that they don’t ever think about the reasons for instructions. One of the jury asked 6pt a couple questions about this, why she didn’t ask herself what my instructions  meant, or whether it crossed her mind, while she was standing at the photocopier, whether what she was doing was really within the spirit of the instructions, but she was adamant that it never occurred to her to think about stuff like that.

Of course, the kicker here is that she was in a class about critical reading and writing, where, you know, I was trying to teach her to read critically, and analyse documents, and understand things like what a writer might have been saying beyond the surface of a text. You know, things like “why am I being told not to write on the back of the handout?” Her failure to apply the things she was learning in the course to other situations, related to the damn course, depresses me, because it seems to be indicative of the depth to which snowflakery runs.

I could let this really get to me, or I can do what 6pt refuses to do, and accept it, and learn from it, and wade back into the fray. I choose to beat on, a boat against the current.