Things I do not like.

Well, I'll actually start with things I like. Yesterday evening, after a full day of bike advocacy-related matters, I went to the early part of a benefit show for Radio Phoenix. I had to get home in time to go to bed for rowing, so I only stayed for the first band (I think...or second band?), whose name I don't remember, but which played some pretty awesome songs and was fun to watch. I haven't gone to a ton of shows recently, but I've been enjoying the occasional small-ish show of local music, especially when it's good.

Anyway. Listening to the band made me want to play the piano, so I've brought a couple of books with me to campus with the intention of heading over to the music building for a lunchtime jaunt. But I'm suddenly realizing that I probably won't go over because I have an awkward complex about practice rooms on campuses. I just don't want to be overheard or watched as I stumble through things, plus I have no idea how crowded the practice rooms will be and I always feel bad for taking up a room if someone else is waiting and I'm not paying for lessons or anything.

Really, I should suck it up, save up a bit of spending money, and buy one. But then we run into the same set of problems as with buying anything: I don't think I'd be happy with the resonant qualities of most compact upright pianos (and don't think that electric keyboards are an adequate substitute--in my experience, they are not), and can I really justify the expense? On the other hand, if I'm lax about my standards, I could potentially find a piano for fairly cheap. But that's a project for another day.

Oh dear.

So, I'm working on my syllabus, because I start teaching tomorrow morning, and I'm considering including portions of my teaching philosophy in my syllabus. I think it would be valuable for my students to think about philosophies of teaching and learning, so I'll start the conversation by offering them some tidbits to work with.

Only trouble is, I wrote my teaching philosophy a good five years ago, and haven't looked at it since then. Sometimes, when I look back and re-read stuff I've written earlier, I'm amazed. This time, I don't think amazement is the right way to describe my reaction. So much has happened between then and now. Fortunately, I've sketched out some notes for a new starting point. And even more fortunately, the stakes aren't super-high when it comes to the quality of the statement. Yet.