What the Hell Am I Doing Here?

Yup. Or else: What the hell am I doing here? That's basically what I've been thinking these days. I've got two flybacks so far (with the possibility of perhaps one or two more, though the probability of this goes down as time passes).

One of them was not a surprise. I did well at the preliminary MLA interview, and felt really good about my prospective "fit" with the department. The second one, however, did not go as well, thanks to some rather overly aggressive questioning from one faculty interviewer that bordered on hostility. The fact that the job was for a particularly specialized area of my field (Shakespeare) in which I don't particularly look like a specialist--at least on paper--made this the prospect of just an interview seem unlikely, yet here I am, at the second step in the process, with an invitation to visit this campus as well, and give the whole job talk (i.e. a sample lecture drawn from your dissertation) thing, while realizing that that experience may only confirm or further the impression that I'm not "really" a Shakespearean; hence the whole, "What the hell am I doing here?" chant that keeps going on in my head.

So the stress of prepping the job talk has made me only half there a lot of the time, and I'm very easily distracted. I have trouble multi-tasking where I didn't used to. Mainly, because my mind is so one-track these days.

As a result, I'm only semi-functional in other areas of my life, like, say, the job that pays me. I'm also very cranky and resentful at the job that pays me, and have been cutting corners out the wazoo so that I can do work that as yet, doesn't pay me...Sure my unpaid work is more interesting and challenging than my paid work, and sure, the goal is that someday soon, it will become paid work. But still, isn't it a bit messed up that I'm shirking the work that is paid? Although, perhaps it's even more messed up that I can afford to shirk the work that's paid, but not the work that's unpaid? I mean, seriously, how messed up is that?

I lose things. A couple of days ago, for instance, I was late for work because I couldn't find my glasses; I found them, and then promptly lost my keys. And I've been regularly been misplacing bills that I have to pay, though perhaps there's something subconscious going on there.

I avoid work because it stresses me out, and this stresses me out more. For the past few days I have had the experience of not wanting to get out of bed and wanting to remain completely unconscious and unaware of life's going ons...

I've also had some new insights into Murphy's Law; for instance:

1) The less time you have to socialize, the more that social opportunities will present themselves.

2) The more you forget or don't have time to eat, the less likely that there will be free food available to compensate your forgetting or your lack of time.

On the plus side, I did have a super cool and incredibly well timed good omen of a horoscope last week, courtesy of Rob Brezny's Free Will Astrology:

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): The longest waves on the planet unfurl in the place where the Atlantic Ocean flows into the mouth of the Amazon River. The phenomenon is called the "pororoca" (from a word meaning "tumultuous noise"), and has become a favorite challenge for surfers. In 2003, a Brazilian daredevil named Picuruta Salazar rode a single wave for 37 minutes, gliding and plowing for almost eight miles. Judging from your current astrological omens, Taurus, I'd say that's an apt metaphor for the kind of wave you now have the chance to jump on. If you choose to give it a whirl, don't plan for a short sweet burst of adrenaline. Be ready for a long, rollicking balancing act.

So yah, that looks pretty good right? The only thing I'm wondering is whether I've successfully jumped on the wave, and whether perhaps I'm on the "balancing" part but not necessarily the "rollicking" part...And seriously, I could do with some good, healthy, rollicking.

Similarly, I have an excellent opportunity to decompress tomorrow night, thanks to a friend of mine--who is simultaneously on the job market and a member of one of the search committees checking me out--throwing a combined job market-decompression/birthday party themed on the literature of Edgar Allen Poe. Yup, Edgar Allen Poe. The famously termed "Master of Macabre." We're supposed to dress up like some of his characters, though I imagine dressing up like a corpse would generally suffice. Anyway, I plan on going as the Masque of the Red Death, and I'm very excited about it, because you know, I could really use some decompression.

I have not had the chance to bake in a while, though, which is sad. I was on a major spree before the holidays, as my last post shows, but I think it's a no-go for now, at least till all the flybacks are over. Still, in the spirit of future baking sprees, there are some additonal pictures of my holiday baking below, including a picture of the much-lauded molasses cookies I mentioned in my previous post--they're pictured next to pumpkin raisin walnut cookies in the tin (to Moon Goddess and Loon, I WILL share the recipe, at some point in the near future, I promise). I was also very excited about the sugar cookies. Granted, I didn't make these from scratch, but you have to admit the cookie cutter shapes are rather nice--namely the shoes...How freaking cool are the shoes? I think the snowflakes are the prettiest, because I went to the trouble of dyeing icing and all that, and originally I wanted to do that for the shoe cookies too--but I was running out of frosting that point, and was just plain tired. But check 'em out:

So here are the pumpkin raisin walnuts and the molasseses, top and bottom, respectively. Both superb. And here are some of the sugar cookies:

So that's all for now, folks...This weekend is going to be quite intense, and while most are enjoying a three day weekend, thanks to MLK, I will be working my little tushy off. Yippee....

Finally, I tried to get all the pictures lined up on the left, after first thinking I would center them. For whatever reason, those last two won't shove over. This blogger dashboard doesn't always work so well...and I'd edit the html if I could but I just don't know enough, so I guess I'll just have to deal with a weird layout..

No such thing as too much lemon zest....

So...

I've got 5 job interviews, 1 phone interview, and 4 at the upcoming MLA in Chicago. And there could be more. To anyone at all familiar with the academic job market--this is pretty good news, though also not in any way a guarantee of a job. It also means I have a whole butt load of preparation to do to get ready for these suckers. And sure, I could have started today. But you know, this sort of news makes me agitated. And it's holiday season, i.e., it's BAKING season. Plus, we're expecting a butt load of snow tomorrow. Nothing that Bflo can't handle, no record-breaking or anything, but enough to be damn inconvenient, to make it inadvisable to drive anywhere, and to make it necessary for seemingly the entire Bflo population to go grocery shopping at the exact moment that I did, because it was a freaking disaster area if I've ever seen one...

On the other hand, I started my holiday baking, and some baking that was just for fun. And there will be more tomorrow, though I've got to be sure to squeeze in some actual work as well.

Anyway, I made another lemon poundcake. Check it out:

Not so shabby, eh? I even glazed it this time...so hopefully that will work out. But I put in a lot of lemon zest--that's the key. As I suggest in the title of the post, there is no such thing as too much lemon zest. The more lemony tangy sweetness, the better. I also started making molasses cookies--they're actually icebox cookies (for the unintiated, this means that you let them chill in a roll in the refrigerator, then slice and bake them), and I'd actually passed this recipe to my mom before making them myself, and she gave them such rave reviews that I felt I had to give them a whirl, seeing as I am enthusiastically PRO-molasses cookies. Not everyone is, of course...Some people will only be ok with a cookie that's got a chocolate chip in one form or another in it. But a molasses cookie full of spice, that's chewy with some real *bitiness* to it--well, just let me at it. And judging by the taste of the dough, it looks like this recipe is indeed a slam-dunk...a molasses cookie of total awesomeness.

And since I'm posting baking, here are two other recent episodes: Exibit A) Chocolate Sour Cream Cupcakes w/Chocolate Buttercream Frosting, made for my office's holiday party:

Exhibit B: Apple-pear pie I made after returning from Thanksgiving and having other kinds of pie, and feeling inspired to make more pie, though I found myself a trifle rusty, and made this bad boy a leetle, just a leeetle too sweet, but somehow I managed to stomach it...

Ah...apple-pear pie. It looked a bit more impressive up close, with the little bubbles of appley-peary juicy syrup running up through the slits in the crust--though as I said, I'm a bit rusty.

Nevertheless, it did not suck by any means.

And tomorrow, the molasses cookies will be baked, pumpkin cookies will be baked, and perhaps, just perhaps, sugar cookie dough will be made and refrigerated. And I will eventually get to use my brand new high-heel shaped cookie-cutter. And the high-heel shoe-shaped sugar cookies (that's some alliteration!) will be decorated ornately and scrupulously. And they will be distributed to high-heel shoe loving people. And it will be good. Yah. And then there will be pumpkin scones, baked with the leftover pumpkin from the pumpkin cookies. Ahhh. Life is good when time is devoted to baking.

Note to self: Try to exercise self-control.

Note to Moon Goddess: I'd be happy to give you the recipe to the molasses cookies; next post, I promise. Unless I figure out how to make it available via the comments to the blog--which I haven't quite figured out yet....

Just For Kicks

Dear Readers,

This week has been taken up by a whole lot of nothing...Well not nothing, but rather, by my filling up my time and space with a lot of pretty pointless somethings. Well not entirely pointless. But certainly, things meant to fill the devastatingly, god-awful, black-hole of wondering, speculation, and overall uncertainty that results from waiting to see how the job market pans out...

My applications are essentially complete. I've gotten most of the initial acknowledgement letters: "Thank you very much for your interest in X university's position in X. Please make sure we have all of the required materials, such as X, Y, and Z. Should we pursue your candidacy further, we may request additional materials." Etc, etc.

I've now gotten two such requests--fewer than I had hoped for by this point in time, but truthfully, this doesn't necessarily indicate anything. Which in itself is maddening. Because you just can't predict anything at any point in the academic job search. University search committees each have their own schedule/timeline, and let's face it, Thanksgiving is a week earlier this year, and who knows how much that may have screwed things up for the average academic? Folks are still teaching classes and likely trying to cram in the last parts of syllabi, tips for final papers and exams, as well as trying to keep up/catch up with grading they've neglected so that they can keep up to speed with final grading. And I understand. I empathize. I totally get it. And indeed, let's think some more about the fact that Thanksgiving is a week early--among some search committees, I imagine this creates a greater sense of urgency to narrow down the candidate field--to make some of those intial decisions so they feel they can enjoy their holiday in peace, without having to attend some emergency committee meeting (though I seriously doubt this ever happens), and know where they're at after the holiday is over. For other committees, this may mean that they just wait till after the holiday, figuring that's about when they would have gotten back to candidates normally. Although come to think of it, last year, Thanksgiving was sort of D-day--it was right after Thanksgiving that I got interview requests--like the Saturday after. So I don't know what to make of that--except to remark, again, that Thanksgiving being a week earlier might have totally messed things up.

So what does this mean? Is this year just a slow year? Or is this year a bad year, in that I shouldn't expect many requests or many (or even any) interviews? My point is this: You JUST DON'T KNOW. And you will NEVER know for certain. And this state of affairs tends to cause the OCD-minded like me to go a little nuts--and to search for things to fill the information/certainty void.

Like, for instance:

1) My gold standard: watching obsessive amounts of tv.

2) Obsessive cleaning and plans to organize my apartment.

3) Baking--in this instance--an apple-pear pie, which is quite tasty, though it wasn't everything I had hoped it would be. I made it a tad too sweet. Less sugar next time, and maybe a tad more lemon juice. But I haven't made pie in a while...I'm a mite out of practice.

4) Worrying about the stomachaches I've been having for the past week and a half or two-prompting me to call my appendectomy surgeon to ask whether i should be worried, and accompanied subsequently by a trip to his office, a handful of Nexium, and a follow-up appointment, two weeks hence.

5) Considering having a blog entry modeled after the stylings of the illustrious "fug girls" of gofugyourself.com, after witnessing two extremely noteworthy (and entertaining) fashion disasters/indiscretions: A) Girl walking in Delaware Park wearing a coat with "tails"--not as in top-hat and tails, but that place where the coat parts into two on the back...oh you know what I mean--actually pretty nice coat, except that the "part" highlighted her...um...ass crack. I mean, it was right there. I mean, she had on jeans, of course. You couldn't see her ass crack in the flesh. But still, it was a little disconcerting. B) Guy waiting for the bus wearing extremely baggy plaid pajama pants, birkenstocks (in like 35 degree weather), and SHINY black jacket with even SHINIER gold pattern print, complete with backwards newspaper cap. As in WOW. And this vision especially struck me as one the fug girls would pounce on, and come up with a clever, multi-concept phrase to describe--something that involved ideas of being pimped-out and delivering newspapers and perhaps being or wanting to be Scottish.

6) Obsessing over how much contact I've had from schools compared to how much other people have had. A totally fruitless endeavor, especially if the other people are in a different field of specialization, and thus, applying to different jobs/schools.

7) Looking at apartments in areas located near to the schools I applied to. You know, for kicks. And just in case. It's always good to know what you might be able to afford.

8) Thinking about whether to bring any home-baked goods to Thanksgiving. This year, I actually have travel plans. Heading down to NJ for the whole family sh-bang. And I'm likely to be the central attraction, given that I've not seen the extended fam in several years, and have just recovered from accute appendicitis, and have been a source of great concern. I just hope the fam doesn't scrutinize every bite that I eat, and then insist I eat more. What can I say? They're a pretty typical Jewish family--eating is important to them.

9) Thinking about going to the mall...even though I have nothing I really need to buy. And even though, it's already been an expensive year, and will get more expensive once MLA rolls around, not to mention the holiday shopping season (which had essentially already started, hasn't it?), and the prime heating season. Ay. And even though when it comes down to it, I don't even want to go to the mall; I'm just looking for a distraction.

10) Reading Book II of Jonathan Stroud's Bartimeus (sp?) trilogy--which is just so good--and offers another option to re-reading the Harry Potter or Dark Materials series, though I must administer an excited note to self: The Golden Compass movie arrives December 7th. And while I've been a bit irked by how the trailers keep changing language/terminology--essentially dumbing it down (i.e. saying the "golden compass" as opposed to "alethiometer," because apparently words that are more than two syllables are just too scary), I am like, SO stoked to see it.

So that's what I've been up to these days. And wishin'. And hopin'. For requests. And interviews. And for the stomachaches to stop already. And generally for good karma. C'moooon, good karma. Bring it. Bring the karma, I say.

I am looking forward to Thanksgiving at any rate. Turkey, and yams and pies, oh my. And leftovers, bless them. And the glories of food coma. I probably won't post till after the holiday, and so I bid you all (what are there, maybe two of you out there?) a very Happy Turkey Day.

Karma

So, did anyone see that episode of Grey's Anatomy on karma? You know, the one from season 2 after Meredith sleeps with George and there's all kinds of bad karma, and George talks about how karma is just there to even the score?

Anyway, I mentioned karma in my last post--and it seems to me that my Free Will Astrology horoscope speaks to some similar vibe:

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Moths, hummingbirds, and bats love to drink the nectar that flowers offer. In return, these pollinators are expected to get some pollen stuck on their bodies and carry it away to fertilize other plants. While the nectar is tasty, it’s usually not pure sweetness. If it were, the first pollinator to come along would suck it all dry, leaving nothing for further visitors. And that wouldn’t be good from the plant’s point of view, because it would limit the number of places where its pollen would be disseminated. To keep nectar-drinking sessions short, therefore, most plants include just a touch of bitterness in the blend. Regard this entire scenario as a useful metaphor for you to keep in mind during the coming weeks, Taurus.

I just wanted to say that if this proves to be the case, I think I can live with it. I say: May I reap life's seeds and pollinate widely. A touch of bitterness I can handle.

Trials and Tribulations

Well...

This blog has been a long time coming, and honestly, there's so much back-wash that I don't know quite where to start. So we'll break it down into 2 main things. 1. Appendicitis. 2. The Academic Job Market.

In mid-September, I found myself with a rather persistent stomach-ache--it went on for 6 days, and of course, being the absent-minded, normally healthy, "it'll go away eventually" sort of person that I am, I basically ignored it. I mean, sure, it was accompanied with some unpleasant other gastrointestinal/digestive problems, and eventually a fever, but I responded with my solution to everything--take some ibuprofen and then see. And sure, both symptoms, and especially the persistence of the stomach-ache and then the combination of the stomach-ache with the fever should have prompted more action on my part, and in all fairness, when the fever happened I planned to go to a doctor as soon as the university's health center was open (Monday after the weekend. Note: The university MIGHT want to consider having the health center open on weekends for at least limited hours--for those of us who do not have a PCP because the university has a health center), but apparently, my body had had enough, and my appendix decided to abruptly errupt, or abscess, or whatever.

At any rate, it hurt like ba-jeezus--and I was forced to call 911 (little knowing, I might add, just how costly ambulance services are, even with insurance) and found out that indeed, I had acute appendictis, with an abscess that was leaking all kinds of pus and other bacterial nastiness into the furthest reaches of my abdomen. Ewwww.

Fortunately I was put under the care of a very skilled, nice, and generally awesome surgeon, and 3 very able and friendly residents, one of whom, I might add, was quite attractive (sigh). And I felt great confidence in all of them, though this sense might have been inflected by my conviction that really, appendicitis was quite common and not that big a deal. Apparently, it depends on the nature of the appendicitis, however, and as I discovered, I had a particularly heinous, nasty kind. Big infection, obviously, which led to inflamed organs, and a reaction to a drug called Toreodol (sp?) did not help matters, since it apparently was something my kidneys did not like much. Suffice it to say, I was in the hospital for about 2 1/2 weeks, though much of it was dulled by some fairly hard-core drugs. I didn't really understand how sick I was until all the major danger was over, although honestly, I think my dad is still processing the whole ordeal far more than I am. I can say with utter conviction, though, that the ICU is an unpleasant place to be, and that hospital food does indeed suck, especially when your digestive system is already up in arms.

The other problem with all this happening, besides being confined to a hospital bed and IV, was that the job market season began while I was essentially out of commission. So while I was initially primed and ready and raring to go and get my big, exciting, real, honest-to-god academic job, and get my applications out in record time, that didn't happen. Instead, life stopped for those 2 1/2 weeks and then I went to NH to stay with my parents for 10 days and proceeded to freak out about getting applications in by deadlines. Thanks largely to my dad's running around photocopying things and mailing things and generally just getting me what I needed, I'm essentially caught up now (still with another small round or 2 of apps to send off, but in pretty decent shape) , and yet, still worried that I'm at a disadvantage for not getting them in before the other 200 applicants. Seriously, the academic job market is the ultimate mind-fuck. I've discussed it at length with several other job-marketers and they all agree. The job-market gives you temporary OCD and often insomnia, and generally just makes you cranky and or high-strung. Ah well.

But now, I am caught between two very interesting, somewhat contradictory, and perspective-altering epiphanies:

1) I still want to be an academic enough to go on the job market again--despite my grousing of a couple of months ago, and while I'm not nearly as starry-eyed about what might be and where I could end up as I was last year--it's still cool to fantasize a bit. Where could I live? What new city could I explore? What classes could I teach? Who could I meet? Who could I become friends with? What sort of apartment might I find? And more broadly, how much might my life change from what it is now?

2) Dude, I just had the closest to a near-death experience that I've ever had, or perhaps I have simply been blindsided by life for the first time, really and truly. And really, I just feel so good to be in the present and returning to normal, i.e. being able to walk, climb stairs, and on the way to doing all the things I normally like to do, and as my dad keeps reminding me, looking back to where I was a month ago--or even 2 weeks ago--really does offer a larger perspective as to what is "really" important. A trite and cheesy realization, but meaningful nevertheless. And the main point is, life can obviously change drastically regardless of whether I get an academic job or not. And the goal is now to make it change in a positive way--whether by way of an academic job or not.

So while academia continues to make its demands, and I have various things to accomplish in the next couple of months that are geared towards that elusive academic job/future, I hope to intermix other things that are more quality-of-life oriented. So here are some things I need/hope to do in the coming months, academic & non-academic.

1. LIGHTLY revise and submit dissertation to the grad school, and file for my degree.

2. Continue to take daily walks, especially working up to the park when my stamina is up to it. Re-commence dancing wildly around my apartment, or as wildly as I am able. It burns calories AND is super-fun.

3. Bake/cook once a week. (Or maybe once every other week--that seems more feasible).

4. Revise essay adapted from dissertation chapter to re-submit for publication and do a really good job so this time it actually gets accepted somewhere.

5. Read more. Both for professional growth and personal satisfaction (i.e. "work" books and "play" books alike.)

6. Try to socialize more. This is admittedly a dubious prospect--since I have a very small social network these days, and the people I socialize with are as busy as I am. But still, TRY to socialize more. Invite people to do things.

7. Try to successfully knit either the pseudo-lacy scarf I started ages ago and keep fucking up, or finish the sweater I started like 2 years ago and also fucked up at least a couple of times, and which may still be fucked up, if I'm being entirely honest. But generally, just finish some knitting project. Even if it's only at 20 minutes at a time. (I confess I'm a bit dubious about this one too.)

8. Throw another mock-Oscar (or mock the Oscars) party, and plan it early enough so that one or two people can actually come.

9. Maintain a reasonable state of neatness in my apartment. (Again, highly dubious until the job market is over and my dissertation is filed, but a worthy goal.)

10. Worry less about money (even as it flies out of my checking account to cover job-market and health-related expenses).

11. Do a bang-up job of planning my composition course for next semester; do so in part by not waiting till the last minute.

12. Think about future academic articles to write/write abstracts for those future articles, submit an abstract to a conference. I should also note that I had planned to apply to NEMLA this year, because it's in Bflo and would therefore have been an easy line on my cv with no personal cost to myself, but the deadline was the day after I went to the hospital, and well, I obviously missed it. Damn.

13. Revise ch. 3 of dissertation as a job talk, in the event that I have a chance to give a job talk(fingers-crossed; may the academic gods be kind.)

14. Purge apartment of miscellaneous stuff that I haven't used in more than 2 years.

15. Be more patient. With people, myself, and life in general. (Riiight. Sure. Whatever.)

I'm sure more hypothetical goals will crop up, but I think that's plenty for now. Other than that, let's hope that the bad karma of the last month, as well as the bad karma I anticipate in the next few months (namely, job-market stress), balances itself out with good karma later. And Readers (if there are any), please send me good and happy vibes.

Until next time.

Introducing: Master Doctor G!

Omigod...Dude, like, it's over. I defended. And on the whole, it wasn't horrible. No walk in the park, but I'm definitely not traumatized, not kicking myself, not cursing my committee, or feeling anything overtly bad, as I was afraid I would be. And while my Ph.D. won't be conferred until February, pursuant to my making presumably minor changes to the diss itself and reformatting it to meet the Graduate School's requirements for online submission, I am now a doctor--as well as a master--hence the title of today's long-awaited (oh, I'm so sure) blog, or perhaps more accurately, today's long-delayed blog.

Of course, it was delayed even longer by the fact that after the defense, I didn't feel like doing much of anything. Even the plans for all the fun things I was going to do post-defense fell by the wayside--I did not have a baking spree--though I did make some truly sublime lemon pound cake--I did not initiate a whole new lifestyle in which I party every night, or at least, go out and talk to people socially on a daily basis. In fact, for the first week post-defense, I spent a lot of time sleeping, and enjoying the lack of compulsion to get up and immediately jump into work. I schmoozed....I lazed...I watched a lot of bad t.v. and re-read Harry Potter Book 7 at least a couple more times and cried when Dobby dies and when Harry gets to see Snape's memories and we learn that he IS good (to all questioners of my unbreakable faith on this point: I freaking TOLD you so). I thought about practicing cake-decorating techniques--which I still want to do--but didn't. I walked around Bflo and fantasized about stuff I'd like to buy someday when I have a real, live, truly salaried job. And enjoyed the fact that I could do all of these things guilt-free.

Also, the day of the defense, I made sure I was very spoily. (Note: the term "spoily" comes from my days as a recent college graduate, when I was living with a friend named Brooke. If I am remembering correctly, we were both having crap-ass days, and declared that from heretoforth, the crap-ass day, and all subsequent crap-ass days--were to be reappropriated as "spoily" days--essentially, a day where you got to do whatever you wanted to make yourself feel good, and essentially spoiled yourself silly. This might have resulted in copious retail therapy, or eating copious amounts of bad-for-you food, or watching a marathon of John Hughes 80s movies...whatever floated your boat, and I have to say they were invariably therapeutic and self-affirming.) Anyway, before the defense, I made sure I went to the good sushi place, and got a takeout combo of a California roll, a tuna roll, and a yellowtail role, and it was damn enjoyable. Then after the defense, I went to Premier Foods & Liquor, or Liquor and Foods, or whatever it's actually called--bought myself a lambec--a delectable, Belgian-style beer that is surprisingly sweet and fruity, as well as a piece of lemon-coconut cake, and went home and watched something fluffy and mindless on tv. And I even took a picture of my cake to commemorate this special moment of indulgence:

Isn't it delectable? I must confess I'm a sucker for some good lemon cake. Something, I guess, that is all the more apparent in my earlier mention of making lemon pound cake in the intentioned baking-spree that wasn't.

Oh, and also, I took a picture of the signed "M" form--a gloriously bureacratic, general form by which degrees are applied for. I haven't sent it in yet, because I'd like my sending it in to coincide with my online dissertation submission, and as you probably gathered, I haven't done much on that front yet, but I felt documenting the form was an important part of affirming and celebrating the defense. So here that is:

It's been almost a month now since the defense, however; a new academic semester has started, and very slowly, I am trying to get back to a mode of being in which I get stuff done. I have just begun reading through my chief advisor's comments on the diss, looking at the summary comments, and re-reading the introduction. Admittedly, this is a very "toe-in-the-water" approach, and I really ought to be diving in so that I can make the necessary (and hopefully minor) revisions/reformatting, but truthfully, it's a doozy to make myself read it again, let alone start messing with it, however little messing there is to be done. So instead, I'm re-reading some other academic stuff totally unrelated to dissertation, but that I'm hoping to turn into an abstract to submit to a conference, and I'm starting to review job market materials from last year and to update them for this year, because that's actually a relatively mindless, and fairly easy, but still necessary activity, though there are some things that really need to be thought about in more depth--like my prospective syllabi. Must do that. Those syllabi. And truthfully, designing syllabi can be fun. Though it is easier to rethink syllabi that you've actually taught already. Ah well...

In any case, thank god the semester has started, as its momentum tends to drag me along, and at the moment, I need to be dragged a bit. But thankfully, there have been some social events scattered here and there. My friend Kate and I drank too much sangria a couple of weeks ago following a perusal of the Elmwood art festival...well it really wasn't too bad, given that we did so over 6-7 hours. But I admit I suprised myself. And technically, I'm not sure it really was sangria--since it combined champagne with Ciao Bella's blackberry-cabernet sorbet, plus the requisite fruit, marinated in triple sec--but it certainly tasted like sangria, and it was quite enjoyable on a sunny, warm afternoon.

Also, Leslie and I finally went out this past weekend--after months of not seeing each other socially--for Indian food, and dessert, and an exchange of birthday/surprise post-defense gifts--Leslie made me an awesome totebag (hopefully to be pictured soon), crafting genius that she is!!--coupled with a quick stop at the mall, where I bought a pair of much-needed new jeans, and considered buying a pair of cream-colored slingback heels with little bows on the toes to go with the adorable, flowery, and uncharacteristically girly dress I found at Marshalls a week or so ago for $20. You've got to love Marshalls for that sort of thing. Granted, they've got plenty of really tacky, cheap crap, but every so often--if you're lucky, and patient, and have no expectations, you can find little gems. Here's the dress by the way (currently strapless, though I hope to create straps for it, so as to feel more secure in wearing it), suitable for a hypothetical garden party, dressy get-together, girls night out, or afternoon spring/summer wedding:

Note: I've been going through quite a girly phase these days...hence, the cute floral dress, and the prospect of the sling-back shoes with bows on the toes, which tragically, didn't quite fit (Leslie noted that I was "clomping" around a bit--they weren't falling off but the slingback was not quite secure around my heel). I don't know what it's about--maybe just feeling like now that the dissertation is more or less over, I can start looking more attractive, and perhaps even do some head-turning, or just feel young and fresh and pretty, and still with the majority of my future in front of me.

But we have just finished Labor Day weekend, which means back to school officially, and which means I officially need to get my ass in gear. "Sure," you say. "Good luck with that," you say. "Whatever," you say. But just you wait. The pull of the semester and the academic job market is strong, and I am sure that my obsessive-compulsive tendencies will shortly take over and riddle me with adrenaline, anxiety, and the ever-tantalizing hope of a better life and then I'll be on my way! Woohoo!

On a side note, here is a picture of Maya and Lyric on Labor Day, which is fairly representative of me on Labor Day as well:

They just make life look so easy, don't they? Until next time, when life may be going a whole helluva lot faster.

Hot and Bored

Wow. Doesn't that title sound like a dirty, sleazy personals ad? But seriously, it's rather warm in Bflo these days...low 90s, and humid, and stagnant. And while there are theoretically numerous, productive things I could be doing, I'm finding it hard to muster the energy or will-power.

Perhaps it is some sort of post-dissertation, pre-defense malaise. Perhaps it is much-needed recovery time. Or willful recovery time. Or willful laziness. Who really knows? Fortunately, this state seems to be precisely what my Free Will Astrology horoscope this week is encouraging:

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): For a limited time only, you have cosmic permission to suck your thumb and drool freely and murmur “gaga” over and over again. More than that: You have a poetic license to spend expansive periods rocking back and forth while curled into the fetal position, either under the covers or on the beach, while singing little made-up songs about everything you love. The moment has arrived, in other words, to give yourself permission to melt into a pool of primal goo as you commune with the music of the spheres and tune in to the hymn of your deepest longings.

Dude...license to melt into primal goo...how cool is that? I see that as kind of an existential mudbath/spa treatment, which, let's face it, is probably the only kind of mudbath/spa treatment I will ever be able to afford, and is probably way better than the average mudbath/spa treatment if properly executed and experienced.

My cats, however, seem to achieve existential, and perhaps near-actual goo on a daily basis, though I'm sure the heat helps them along in this respect. To illustrate this point, I give you photos of Lyric and Maya in existentia:

Yup, there really is nothing like a cat to show you what existential goo might look like. Lyric really does look like she's melting into the chair she is lying on. Of course, Lyric is probably thinking something more like, "Dude, its freakin' hot. I, like, can't move. I'm really glad I stretched out my front legs though, because the more space I take up, the less likely it is that Maya will come over here and co-opt my chair, or smother me, or bat me on the head. She just thinks she's so great. Look at her hogging Mommy's couch; she's so selfish. No wonder Mommy likes me better. Also, I bet I look really good on purple; no wonder Mommy keeps looking over at me. I am not only hot; I am like, HOT."

Maya, by contrast, is obviously saying, "I am the queen. I am the queen. The couch is mine. Mommy is mine. Lyric thinks that chair she's using is hers, but really it's mine. I rule, because I'm the best and because I'm fabulous and everyone adores me. I'm starving, though. Mommy fed me 20 whole minutes ago, and I don't know how she expects me to survive. I'll really have to work on that with her. If she would just accept my total domination of the household, life would be SO much easier." Or so I like to project. Because imaginary cat monologues are fun.