You Have to Love Pie

Well,

I've officially started breaking in the new apartment with baked goods...because a place I live in is not home until baking has taken place. I plan to do more of it in the next few days, if it gets less humid, and would like to use some of the equipment I haven't broken in yet...like the madeleine pan!!! But last weekend I made the first pie I've made in a very long time...quite a pricey pie also, since I used 2 pints of black rasberries from the farmer's market at $5 a pop, though the blueberries were much more reasonable...So yah, blackrasblueberry pie. And I have to say, I was worried...because it has been such a long time since I've made pie...and have never used black rasberries, which were somewhat sweet but also somewhat tart, and very ripe and tender...which poses all kinds of challenges in terms of estimating how much sugar and tapioca/cornstarch to use to sweeten and thicken it...but it turned out very very very well...initially a little tart, but with sweetness too, and it was lipsmacking tart, and to be honest, my mama raised me to appreciate a slightly tart pie...And whip cream balanced it out nicely...all in all, it was pretty freaking good...and the friends I shared it with thought so too...Behold:

Indeed, the pie was so worthy of celebration that I danced around my apartment singing the song I made up the last time I made an awesome pie...basically, a song about how "You Have to Love Pie" to the tune of "It Had to Be You." And the answer is yes. I'm a total spaz. Or just my father's daughter. Because my father makes up stupid songs to the tune of other songs constantly, and apparently I'm meant to carry on this venerable tradition. "You have to love Piiie...You just have to love piiiie...I can't think of whyyy, you'd try to denyyy, the bliss that is piiiie....and so on... Again, I know: I am a total spaz. But endearingly so...
Other than that, just trying to prep for my bigtime academic job which starts in a little over a month...I'm reading lots of stuff and writing syllabi, and after the syllabi are written I hope to do some writing of my own...of the scholarly academic variety... But pie. Pie is always awesome. More baking endeavors to be reported later, rest assured...

Reunification, and The Finally Changing Times

Dear Readers,

It's been a while...but this blog marks many of the much-anticipated life changes that previous blogs detail...I've moved into my beautiful, humongous, grownup apartment, have finished my time at my now former job (you remember, the one that paid me?), and am now starting to prep for the future job that will pay me way more...that will offer me...dare I say it? A grownup salary to go with (and finance) my grownup apartment. Woo-FREAKING-hoo...

By the way, here are photos of the apartment...indeed, I sense this will be an extremely photo-heavy blog:

So yah...it's a lot of space for one person and 2 cats...but that is part of its glory as well...and I think I'm entitled to some glory now...

Anyway, I also had more of a chance for some hindsight, perspective, as well as nostalgia when I attended my 10-year college reunion last month. I have to say I was gleefully surprised at how much fun it was, and I have to thank my friend Phil, who has been featured in one or two blogs past, for convincing me to go, and to remember the good times with my fellow Brandeisians....I was also especially gleeful that my friend Will showed up--and that he is still one of the coolest, nicest people I've ever met...and what made it even cooler was that he seemed as excited to see me. Warner Macklin III also made an appearance...well, he kind of had to, since he had helped organize the reunion--one of the most charismatic and well-known people in our class...one of those people who all you have to do is mention thier first name (not that Warner is that typical a name) and everyone, EVERYONE knows who you are talking about and can pantomime that person's body language, or imitate their facial expression, tone of voice, etc...So that was great. And we did lots of Brandeisian and other college-student things: IHOP, the school dance, and in Phil and my case, a walk around campus at around 2 a.m. And people were so nice...and genuinely interested in what everyone was up to...and people had done so many cool things...Will and his wife Sarah had lived in Alaska for like 8 months...Warner had started a consulting firm and then sold it for an undisclosed amount of money (which I take as $$$$) and Bill Folman has just published his first novel, The Scandal Plan, a political satire about a candidate who pretends to have had an extramarital affair to humanize his image....and which is reportedly quite good and receiving good reviews, and which I feel like I should read now...and Phil of course, is singing and songwriting and working on growing his record label, and Susan is finishing her Master's in Library Science and is currently a book buyer in children's literature (which is so freaking cool) and has an award-winning blog on the subject, and Becky is a zookeeper, and Jen is a Spanish teacher and is learning Portugese, and all kinds of other cool information...it was awesome.

So here's some photos of that:

So that was special...and I also got some downtime in NH on the beach:

And the past couple days have been great also...I had too much sangria at Lorna's 4th party, and we all know how I love too much sangria...because I don't mean a dangerous too much so much as a "I got very silly and effusive and goofy,"which eventually wore off and I drove home completely sober. I'm a happy happy drunk. And a responsible drunk, when you come right down to it. And yesterday, I went to another cookout type of thing and had a positively ripping waterfight. Bet you never thought you'd see those words in combination: "postively ripping waterfight." And today, I am going to have my first informal kickboxing lesson. Awesome.

Must I Give a Crap?

Dear Readers,

I'd like to begin by highlighting a couple of recent and highly enjoyable events. I had a birthday a couple weeks ago or so (I don't think I can do the math in my head), and I "officially" graduated as a Ph.D. with the quick flick of a cheap blue tassel and an even cheaper gold-painted plastic '08. Sorry. I'm actually not trying to downplay the significance or the celebrations of this latter event. I just think it's funny that I paid $50+ to rent regalia that included the cheap plastic '08, which, oh my stars, I was allowed to KEEP. Of course as soon as the tassel was plunked down at home, the plastic '08 came loose--and in fact--that was when I discovered just how cheap and plastic it was. Ah well...

However, the graduation was actually a surprisingly enjoyable event. My parents and my aunt and uncle came, bringing me some 2nd hand antiquey furniture in tow as a graduation present, along with a way cool teapot in the form of Shakespeare's childhood home--a fitting tribute to my new position. I was taken out for a very nice dinner as well, and except for the difficulty of transporting one particularly stubborn piece of furniture into my apartment, the whole thing was really enjoyable. And yet, apparently exhausting.

Because the day following the graduation, and after the folks and the aunt and uncle headed home, I pretty much collapsed. And then I spent most of the next day on the couch. And the past 3 days (including today), I've been pretty much sleepwalking, and I've developed a sore throat to boot. To which I say: What the hell? Is this year finally catching up with me at last? Have I reached this moment of glory only to succumb to petty human ailments? Well, damnit. That pretty much sucks.

What also sort of sucks is that such glory is always short-lived, and I'm back to waiting for the new apartment and the new job and the new life again and waiting out the current apartment, job, life, etc. And I've got a freaking sore throat. And it's so hard to give a crap about much of anything. I had all sorts of goals to fulfill this week. I think I've accomplished one of them, namely, submitting my students' grades for the semester. Which is an important one, and I don't want to undermine it, but I need to go back to doing academic things, and highly practical things (like paying off my student loan), and I just can't seem to manage them. I blame the sore throat, personally. It just seems to be the tipping point. You can't do good work when you're not feeling good.

You can, however, waste copious amounts of time on the internet.

Specifically, I have recently been brought a bit more into the 21st century in the way of contemporary media. A friend of mine has introduced me to facebook, and I'm a bit proud but also a bit ashamed to say I'm addicted. Who can resist a forum that allows you to discuss the significance of the number of young and beautiful but inevitably dead women that appear in the stories of Edgar Allen Poe, while at the same time taking on the persona of a Vampire Temptress and trolling the internet to bite your friends, or throwing a virtual Paris Hilton at them, or being able to send them utube videos of muppets? It's just irresistible, perhaps too irresistible, but still, super-duper cool.

As for the birthday, it was simple and cozy. Before the day itself, I went out to dinner with a few friend to what is probably my favorite local restaurant--Thai food--though I ordered my dinner a little too spicy. Then the day itself was spent baking some very scrumptious cupcakes (what else did you expect?) which I present to you below. This was not necessarily the original plan, but my birthday was a nasty cold rainy day, and staying inside baking cupcakes was quite a nice way to spend it. And the cupcakes were quite lovely--yellow cake (which had a lot of brown sugar in it, so that added to the kind of flavor they had) with orange undertones (a good healthy dose of orange zest) with chocolate buttercream frosting, which was truly exceptional, as several people have already testified. I think when you find a recipe that works, you stick with it--and I will definitely be going back to this version of chocolate frosting--and which was actually pretty simple to make. Check 'em out:

And at the end of the month, I will be homeward bound--my folks' home that is. I guess I can't really call it my home anymore, something my dad also realized more than ever as he extracted furniture from my bedroom there (that is the bedroom that is counted as mine in my parents' current house) to bring up to my bedroom here, furniture that has been in their house since I was a very small child. And I will spend time at the beach. And at my undergraduate alma mater for my 10 year reunion with my friend Phil (who lives in NYC and who I've mentioned at several points in earlier postings). Which is kind of nuts. Which brings me haphazardly to the point buried in this posting, which is: in light of all the significant happenings and changes that have occurred and are occurring or are about to occur in my life, must I give a crap about all the stupid mundanities that represent what is the same as always? Must I give a crap about the work I must do in the job that pays me, but that will only be my job for another month and a half? Must I give a crap about telling my students they can pick up their papers from the box outside my office? Must I, really?

Nahhhh....I think not. I just want to go home and sleep and kick this sore throat's ass.

I'd also just add that blogspot is suddenly not letting be put additional spaces between paragraphs.

Damnit.

Which Way to the End?

Well, it's that time of the semester. When both my students and I are effectively sick of going to class, and perhaps moderately sick of each other. I still sort of care that they've learned something--despite the fact that I am leaving my current institution at the end of this semester and joining another and am not really obligated to care--but not really enough to feel any motivation to grade their crappy papers, except to get them over with. Oy. Just oy.

I also found myself very ill last night. Had a whopping stomachache, and then my stomach then decided to..er...empty itself several times, and I didn't get much sleep, and just generally felt crappy. I also went through what is now a standard reflexive thought process for me after the whole appendicitis thing last Sept/Oct, and the two trips to the hospital that were made in response to stomachaches, namely: 1) Preliminary waves of nervousness that could very easily cross over into panic, and 2) Thoughts such as, "Should I go to the hospital AGAIN? I really don't want to go the hospital AGAIN." It seriously was painful enough to merit that thought process, and because it lasted for several hours, I was seriously thinking about it. I didn't go, and I do feel better this morning, but am still a bit queasy, and am watching what I eat, and am wondering whether I've caught some sort of end-of-the-semester-nasty bug/virus. I hope it's the latter.

Work that pays me has also been driving me crazy. Again, because it's the end of the spring semester, and well, universities tend to have lots of big events at the end of the spring semester, and the office that employs me is usually pretty heavily involved.

Which means we've been darn busy, and as luck would have it, in my last year at this job, wouldn't you know, but we'd have to have a New Person in Charge who is involved with much of the planning of these events. And New Person in Charge, or as I shall refer to her henceforth, NPiC (hey, that almost looks like an abbreviation for nitpick--which would actually be totally appropriate), has been driving me and everyone else in my office up the freaking wall.

Because, well, it's one thing to not completely know what you're doing, and to be learning the proverbial ropes, and all that. It's an entirely different thing to be in that situation but to act as though you know everything, to be uncommunicative with the other offices you need to coordinate with to pull off aforementioned events, to expect those other offices to respond to your beckon call while also handing their staff inadequate information or poorly conceived materials. Freaking NPiC needs to be schooled in some form or another. Unfortunately, I can't be the person to do the schooling. Because let's face it, I'm still on the lowly end of the office status ladder, and I probably won't even ever meet NPiC face to face. Ah well.

And to go back to the subject of my previous post, my "dream" apartment turned out not to be my dream apartment. Don't get me wrong. It was quite elegant in its way; but I'm not sure it was ME...which I guess means I'm not elegant--and frankly, I'm ok with that. I then thought I'd found my dream apartment again. I was so sure, in fact, that I filled out an application and handed over a security deposit, but then my actual dream apartment came into existence, thanks to a friend's inside scoop, and I had to withdraw the application and beg for my security deposit back, which fortunately for me, was something the realtor and prospective landlord agreed to do (I still need to doublecheck this with my bank, but fortunately, Bflo is not NYC, and people are nicer about things like giving back security deposits). Now I haven't signed a lease yet, and while I'm optimistic about my chances of signing a lease, these things are never really certain until that moment you sign on the proverbial dotted line. (No I don't know why I'm using the word "proverbial" repeatedly. Search me.) And in the meantime, in anticipation of my taking possession of my new dream apartment, I'm getting sick to death of my current apartment, and especially my neighbor who lives in the apartment above me--who is not a fundamentally bad person as far as I know but who smokes like a chimney, stomps around in what appear to be very heavy boots, and appears to constantly be moving (or perhaps dropping?) furniture, and who appears to do nothing but watch t.v. all day while chain-smoking cigarettes or pot, which wouldn't bother me in principle, except that I have to smell the cigarettes/pot, and hear the t.v., which he frequently keeps at a highly questionable volume.

Now, I know these aren't unforgivable crimes. I know that. In fact, this neighbor is a VAST improvement over the previous upstairs tenant. But that doesn't mean he hasn't been driving me nuts for as long as he's been living there, or that I don't rejoice every time he leaves the house while I'm home, or conversely, rejoice when I come home and he's not there, or that I am not desperately hoping to get the hell out of my current apartment a.s.a.p.

My point is this: Make it end, god, please make it end. The semester, the stomach thing-- whatever the hell it is--my time in my current office job, and my time in my current apartment.

When it does finally end, however, I think life will wildly improve.

Fantasy is Awesome

All right.

So I think I'm starting to wrap my head around this whole "I've got a job" thing, and of course, the beauty of having a reasonably well-paying job, especially in a city like Bflo, where living expenses are relatively low, is that I have actual disposable income, and can move into a better apartment, and buy "real" furniture, and then have housewarming parties, and maybe even dinner parties, or tea parties, or brunches...things I've been positively yearning to have...

Anyway, I've started cruising for potential apartments-- and I think I found my fantasy apartment, and am now seeing if it might be come my reality apartment. I'd seen it initially a few days ago, called the listed phone #, but the owner wanted a tenant sooner than I was initially prepared to move.

But then I kept looking at the fantasy, maybe reality apartment, and I showed it to my friend Leslie, and she thought it looked like a "great space" too, and asked whether I might just take the plunge and move earlier. And Leslie is one of those people whose judgement you trust about these sorts of things, and so what did I do? I left a message with the realty people (I haven't had direct contact with the owners) on their answering machine that went something like this: "Hi, my name is X...You might remember that I called a few days ago about the apartment you have listed on Y at Street Names A and B, and I was wondering if it was still available because I think I'm basically in love with the apartment, and I know that the owners want a tenant a.s.a.p. but I was wondering if they would be willing to do a May 1st starting date for a lease. Please give me a call back at phone # Z."

And yes, I really did say I was in love with the apartment. You would be too if you got a look at this baby...It's huge and gorgeous and has everything that I want.

Like for instance:

It has 2 bdrms, one of which is small, but that's fine because I want it for an office anyway, and laundry facilities on the premises.

It has a living room and dining room that are big and beautiful and have great light, and all kinds of interesting features, and built-in shelving and other storage devices that I can't quite categorize.

It has a porch/balcony, and a little space that has 3 humongous windows that would be awesome for a window seat, though there isn't actually a window seat, but you could totally put an ottoman or a chaise or one of those antimacassar thingies there and it would be totally Victorian and romantic, and the kind of spot where I could receive suitors or swoon or be consumptive or perhaps just take a wee glass of sherry.

And they take cats but not dogs, which is awesome--because I have cats but don't want to live with dogs.

And it has newly refinished hardwood floors, and is painted a light yellow which works surprisingly well, and will totally work with my fantasy color scheme--well maybe not exactly but I wouldn't feel like I needed to paint over everything like I did with the apartment I actually went to look at earlier today which was cheaper but not nearly as wonderful.

It is large enough that I could literally skip through the apartment for a good 10 skips at least, I think, and as far as my dancing wildly around the apartment goes--I think new highs would be reached.

So that's why I took at least this initial, preliminary plunge, made the leap, of calling and essentially grovelling... But if I get my fantasy apartment, it will be the best grovelling I have done in quite some time.

So wish me luck on this apartment. I'm working largely on impulse right now, but perhaps my spontaneity will pay off...If I get it, I'll post the pictures that first compelled me to grovel...

Addendum: This is to state that Leslie bears no responsibility for my either gaining or losing aforementioned fantasy apartment, or for any remorse/regret that might accompany it.

Contemplating My Investment; So Now What?

In my last post, I contemplated what this job offer might mean, and especially, what it will mean to essentially stay where I am geographically, at least for a while.

Honestly, the anxiety about "what it all means" has not subsided. At all. I haven't even started my new job yet, and won't for several months, and already I'm thinking about how it's a job I'm probably going to want to leave. Not because it's a bad job (although I don't know that yet either), but because I ultimately do want to move on geographically, hopefully, to a city closer to friends and family. But what does that ultimate goal do to my staying here in the meantime? Does it mean that I view the meantime as temporary as well, and therefore, not worth investing in--i.e. financially, socially, etc? And then, what if I don't manage to get that "next" academic job? Does that mean that I'm effectively "stuck" where I am, or that I consider throwing off academia again? And will that period in academia negate my non-academic work experience, and therefore my chances of getting a non-academic job, if that is what I end up seeking out? I would like the answer to be "no." Still, this too presents a question of "investment." Like my fellow graduate students, I have spent a significant number of years in earning my degree, and moving towards gaining an academic career, as well as untold hours of work, stress, and anxiety in gaining a direct entrance to that career--i.e. my new job. As far as most people in academia are concerned, my investment has paid off. And yet, I am just as anxious, if not more anxious, than I was before. I am concerned about the real, long-term consequences of my investment, and whether I will stay invested.

By the same token, will my investment even pay off in the short-term? Will I like my job (enough)? Will I make friends of my colleagues, and perhaps (hopefully), of faculty outside my home department? Will I find an apartment that makes me feel good about where I live, and therefore, incites me to invite people over and, ideally, make more friends? Will I publish, and will I publish enough to either get tenure, or else, a better job in the future? Should I be worried about the fact that I haven't really done much scholarship (either in the form of submitting a paper for publication or conference) in the past few months (due to being on the job market, doing my job that currently pays, and adjuncting a class)? Should I take seriously the urgings of friends, family, and mentors to go out and celebrate my new job even as I feel the need to hunker down and scholasticize?

My conclusion?

I think it's that the mind-fuck never really ends, unless you lose the desire or capacity to contemplate your options, needs, wants, preferences, aspirations, or possibilities. Or perhaps it's simply that I think way too damn much, as friends continue to remind me. Don't think it; do it, damn it.

On the plus side, my friend Kate and I are going out to a nice dinner this evening. With martinis.

Yay martinis!

The Market Giveth...

And the Market Taketh Away...

Or to put a more positive if more cliched spin on things: when one door closes, another opens, or else it's a window or a chute to the laundry or something...

I got a job offer. Seriously. With a real, live salary, and benefits and other stuff...though I haven't been given the specifics yet, and well, I kind of really need those specifics before I yes or no. I'm also waiting to hear from one other school.

However, the job offer involves me staying in the same city, rather than fulfilling my dream of returning to hypothetical big East Coast City--namely, Boston or New York--not that that was exactly what I thought would happen, but I must admit, I did envision myself, well, leaving--moving on geographically as well as professionally, and leaving behind the stomping grounds of my graduate student years....and then of course, there's my friend Phil, who lives in NYC, and has been begging me for years to move to NYC so we could see each other more often than we do, and urging me to ditch the "barren wasteland," (though he was speaking as much about my social life as about my geographic locale, relative to Manhattan, and let's face it, to Manhattanites, practically everwhere else is a "barren wasteland"), and who will be very upset if I do accept, though I'm quite sure he'll come to terms with it eventually.

Of course, if I accept this offer, I would be able to leave behind some things; namely, my current apartment and somewhat annoying neighbors, all remaining traces of financial dependence upon my parents, guilt about unecessary expenditures (not that I'm especially prodigal), and a host of other worries that have to do with being a graduate student and therefore being at all times economically strained.

On the other hand, it would mean trying to reestablish a social network--hopefully a largely new network that would continue to grow--and perhaps reforging social ties that have been more or less lost over the past few years, or at least, weakened by graduate student turnover, and again, the expectation that I would, someday at last, leave and start completely afresh in every way, though there will still be some of that I think. And in fact, in possibly staying, there are many things that I'll be glad to keep. It's just such a strange and unexpected turn of events.

On the other hand, staying would mean maintaining a much more affordable cost of living than would heading "back East." I could live in a much nicer apartment, in a nice area, and not spend more than half of my paycheck. I would therefore have more disposable income to at least visit cities like NY and Boston, and wouldn't have to rationalize it as much.

I could finally buy my cats the kitty jungle gym I've been wanting for them for ages but could not justify.

Ultimately, I'm still processing the offer. And I need to find out the particulars to process more fully. But dude--I'm going to be gainfully employed--wherever--for the first time in 7-8 years...

Holy crap.

It's stunning. It's mind-boggling. It's a tremendous relief, and yet, a source of tremendous anxiety. Because now academia is finally, well, a "real" possibility.

Which is so screwed up, considering I've been working the past 7-8 years to make it real, and presumably, what I've been doing all along is real, but real in terms of gaining a degree, not necessarily a career. Which is kind of a weird and foolish enterprise in today's society.

More details to come, especially since I need to consult my Free Will Astrology horoscope this week, and it won't be out till tomorrow.

In the meantime, I guess I should really thank and praise the academic gods...so thanks a helluva lot ladies and gents...I really appreciate all you did, if you did anything. I would also like to thank all my friends and family. And my advisors. And all the cupcakes that sustained me and will continue to offer solace in the years ahead.... Yes, let us bless all the cupcakes. Especially the ones with pink icing and sprinkles that spread joy to my peeps far and wide...you know who you are...

Apologies. I have cupcakes on the brain because a) I'm thinking about making some to cheer up a co-worker and friend who just had surgery, and b) I ate a sublime one earlier today from a selection that someone brought to the office--chocolate cake w/chocolate icing from the always delicious Dessert Deli: http://www.dessertdelibakery.com/

And I'm not religious or spiritual at all, but picture me hallowing out a mental (or actual) Hallelujah, Amen, Namaste, the Eternal Yes, the cosmic "Yope," or what have you.

Addendum: I would just add that the job offer came from the school I felt least optimistic about initially, the one that I thought I didn't have much of a shot at to begin with. See my previous post for details. All I can say is: The job market sure is weird.