Doctor T Says....

So Long, Farewell....

2007-11-26T14:35:00.000-08:00

This blog is being retired. I've moved to a new home. Leave me a note if you want the url.

How can I be so good at teaching one thing....

2007-10-03T12:01:00.001-07:00

....and struggle so much teaching another?

I'm finding my teaching this semester weird. When it's discussion and an author I enjoy, I really like it. When it comes to teaching the technical shit, and straight-up lecturing, which you'd think would be easier because it's scripted, I flounder. I don't like it. It's so draining, and I just want to do more. But I have to cover the basics. That's why courses like this suck -- because what is basic groundwork for one student might be old news to another. Because we're supposed to be moving towards "standard" assignments and evaluation, but it makes me feel like an automaton.

Hopefully Friday will be better -- I'm doing a Treava-style tour of the library and then giving them a library scavenger hunt assignment. Maybe a day out of the class will give me the punch in the gut I need.

Month 1 Down, 3 Await....

2007-09-28T11:43:00.000-07:00

The first month of the first semester of my fourth-year as a PhD student is nearly complete. In fact, I've just taught my last course for September and am now decompressing after a particularly busy past four weeks.

Oh yes, I'm teaching again. Academic reading and writing. It's not what I would have chosen, but it's required time for sessional PhD instructors. My class is keen -- almost all first years, quite young (17 and 18 year olds make me feel aged), pretty ambitious and smart. I don't put much credence in the idea that people are entering uni out of high school barely able to write. If my experience teaching three courses is an yardstick, high school grads are pretty damn capable. Their behavior is sometimes distracting, but overall the class is going well. This week I've been a pretty crap teacher because my sinuses ache interminably and it makes me want to steam my head open, so hopefully they will forgive me and next week -- research methods! -- will be better.

Fall on campus is busy, full of germs (illness run amok), stressful and marked by dodgey, weird weather. I prefer misty coolness, and most days begin that way but the sun burns the fog off by noonish and it gets dry and hot and ick. The uni is still highly allergenic despite the many renovations going on around campus -- my building is, of course, neglected and sad, as humanities doesn't bring in the cash. And chalk is gross, but better than wasting paper, I guess.

I've managed to carve out some dissertation only time on Mondays and Thursdays, and afternoons when I don't have marking to do. The chapter is well on its way, and once it is complete, I get to move on to chapter two, the one I REALLY want to write, on short stories. I'm also thinking about submitting a couple conference proposals based on my dissertation chapters so I have no excuses not to finish writing.

Socially, the department is lively enough, although the cohort feel for PhDs is still in early stages. Aw, the perils of island life -- sometimes, we're just to lazy to really pull together.

Tag Time

2007-09-17T18:44:00.000-07:00

Tara tagged me to share some fascinating facts about myself.

The deal: (1) Link to your tagger and post these rules. (2) Share 7 facts about YOU: some random, some weird...all devastatingly interesting. (3) Tag 7 people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them). (4) Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment at their blogs.

I have a crazy fear of moths. The new "Social Moth" application on facebook creeps me right the fuck out.
I have a spreadsheet of assistant salary floors at every university in Canada saved on my computer. It took a couple days to put together the first time, and now I update it annually.
Nothing makes me laugh like a fart joke.
I really prefer a night at home to a night out.
I'm afraid I'm becoming an introvert.
When I was 8, I had an allergic reaction to something (still not sure what) and the bottoms of my feet turned purple and swelled up. I walked on the side of my feet for a couple weeks, and I'm convinced that it screwed up my ankles for life.
When I'm stressed out, I get hives.

I'll tag the following folks:

Foxy over at One Vain Cookie
Keri of Diary of a Dandelion Diva
The Procrastinating Pegger, a fellow 20-something lushley
Changa the Running guru
The kasanika family blog
the beans

What Is Progress?

2007-08-27T16:01:00.000-07:00

This isn't an esoteric rant on the nature of progress as an ideological concept. I'm really wondering what I can consider progress in terms of work on the dissertation.

Is 1000 words a day progress? Lately I've been finding the actual writing -- not the brainstorming or text-pulling -- exhausting. One page makes me feel like I've scaled a mountain. But that's really not enough. I really wanted to have a draft of this chapter done by the end of August. I'm really working towards it, but it's not going to happen. I may have a draft by the end of next week, so that's my new goal. But I need to write more that won't end up on the cutting room floor. I need to get to the typing and editing stage. I need to feel like I'm making headway and not feel like I need a nap after every bloody page.

Luckily I've stopped taking out new books. I have now limited myself to what is currently on my office shelves, and only articles and book reviews are allowable extras, and then ONLY to flesh out an already-begun argument. It's so easy to fall into the "oooh, I need that specific book before I can do anything else" -- and that's crap. I know what I want to say, so I should just say it! The last time I just plain wrote, the final product was a very fun and very well-received conference paper, so this trick apparently does work.

And on that note, I'm going to stop writing in my silly blog and get back to the diss. But please, leave a comment on what you consider actual progress -- word counts are welcome.

WordPress vs. Blogger....

2007-08-15T11:05:00.000-07:00

Anyone out there want to comment on WordPress and how it may be better or worse than Blogger? I'm contemplating a switch.

Manic Monday

2007-08-13T08:21:00.000-07:00

If you know me in real life, you will know that I am not a morning person. I'm a bear in the morning, in part because I don't sleep well and because I'm just a bit of a cow whenever I wake up. So how do I feel waking up on Monday morning, on my first real day back at work (writing), to the sound of heavy construction at 7:30 am? Not so good. And I've yet to figure our how I'll make a good writing day in spite of the noise. Earplugs? Music? Speed?

This may call for a move to the library.

William Morris and Slow Food

2007-08-11T12:53:00.000-07:00

I know, it's been ages. And this entry is a bit rambling, but at least I'm writing again. I'll try to be more consistent in the coming months. Anyway, here's some thoughts that have been muddling through my head lately.

My background is a William Morris wallpaper pattern (heavily faded to make the text readable), and since Morris is an important 19th-century writer and one of the authors I'm studying for my dissertation, I figured this look called for a new entry on Morris and slow food. Not that Morris had anything to do with culinary trends, and I doubt the slow food movement has anything to do with Morris directly, but think the two actually have a lot in common.

William Morris was a 19th-century writer, artist and designer. His wallpaper and textile designs are still manufactured today, but only a couple companies produce them, so you won't see them at a big box store in the suburbs. You will see lots of William Morris knock-offs, but unlike, say, Martha Stewart Inc., William Morris never reached mass production or mass distribution levels -- deliberately. And it wasn't because Morris was a snob or an elitist. It was because he believed in artisanship. These days, the word artisan has many connotations -- hippie, crafty, home-made, crunchy-granola -- or, at the other end of the spectrum: snobbery, elitism, prestige, limited editions, luxury. Luckily, we're broadening our horizons, in large part (and perhaps ironically) thanks to the internet: marketplace sites like Etsy have made hand-made goods more accessible and publicized. But for larger purchases, like furniture, flooring, linens, building supplies and housewares, the market is pretty much cornered by mass-producer companies.

Why? For a lot of people, it's cost, convenience and awareness related. People who live paycheque to paycheque and NEED a kitchen table are likely to seek out the cheapest and most convenient option, and that's often what's available at Wal-Mart or another large discount department store. Buying used goods is certainly an option, but most used goods are listed on-line and delivery service isn't an option. If you don't have a car, you're pretty much screwed, unless you have friends or family willing to help you out. And there are many people and families, especially in urban areas, who don't have support systems in place. That's just a plain fact.

But I'm getting off topic. What I meant to write about was the slow food movement, and why it's become the William Morris movement of our era. Slow food is the newest ethical consumer trend, and that' s not necessarily a bad thing. Unfortunately, like William Morris' ideal of craftman/artisan produced goods, slow food is still a small-follower trend -- not because buying fresh and local ingredients is always more expensive, but because we live in a world where mass consumption and mass production rule the market.

Despite the pathetic doctoral student wage I have, and the less-pathetic-public-service-but-not-government-wage of the husband, we've made an effort to buy local poultry, meat, produce, baked goods, bulk goods, veg & fruit, and as much unprocessed stuff as possible. But we're lucky. It's just Mike and me, and besides rent, student loan payments, various debts, and cat expenses, we're not bothered about much. But we're also very, very lucky. We're aware of options besides Wal-Mart, and we have enough time and energy to seek out other options. We have massive support networks that make hitting rock bottom a fairly distant possibility. And because we don't have to worry about things as basic as clothes, housing and food, we have, despite being on the low end of the household salary grid, a perfectly happy existence.

So what was the point of this entry? I think slow food has replaced slow everything else -- furniture, household goods, transportation, services -- in a way that's not so great. The slow food movement is good in the sense that it concentrates on local goods, relaxed dining and simplicity. But it's also a bit elitist (as Anthony Bourdain, the one-time drug dealer turned accolade-laden chef and food writer has noted) because sometimes a stir-fry made with frozen veggies is the most convenient option available -- and it's a far better option than pre-cooked breaded chicken and boxed mashed potatoes. And sometimes, it seems like if we can say we're into slow food, it makes up for all the other mass-produced shit we load up on in our rampant consumer society. But it doesn't, really. We really need to stop fetishizing newness and put a little more effort into buying used household goods and goods from local producers beyond jewellery and pottery. But we're lazy. Hitting the farmer's market for a few bucks worth of locally-grown potatoes makes us feel good, but spending a bit more on a table made in town, or hunting around for a used couch or desk, often seems like too much trouble -- which is sad, really.

My personal response is to buy local for goods that are more taxing on the environment. I'm not a vegetarian, so I try to buy meat, dairy, eggs and fish from local producers in an attempt to reduce pollution from travel and preservation. I try to buy local produce before organic from other countries. But I still buy frozen beans year-round, and I really don't know where my flour comes from (I know it's milled in Saanich, about 25 minutes from our house, but where's the wheat from?). I try to buy used goods, but sometimes my wants get the best of me and I shell out for something new and shiny because it's easier. I don't think it has to be an all-or-nothing thing by any means -- every little bit counts and all that -- but if we're so into promoting eating locally, why aren't we into living locally? And how can we start to make the switch?

I'm Still Standing....

2007-06-18T20:42:00.001-07:00

I've been AWOL for a while now, but I've been working on a substantial, awesome late-Victorian themed entry about social/cultural stuff for a while...seriously....but I've yet to finish it. Sigh.

In the meantime, here's what I've been up to lately:

Finally completed and submitted thrice-revised dissertation proposal. This event actually happened well over a month ago, but I didn't mention it, cause I'm weird like that.
Was "elected" (by 12 big votes) the PhD rep for 2007-2008. Rock on! I'm keen to take on the administrative stuff. Weirdly, I actually enjoy admin stuff, which means my nerd-o-meter goes up by about 4 SRUs.
Completed a 10 week running clinic organized by the very inspirational Changa.
Read a bunch of books. Special thanks to interlibrary loans at my uni.
Ran my first real race, the 8km Do It For Dad Prostate Cancer (trail) run and lived to tell the tale.

I also planted some herbs, got my bike in working order, and contemplated life some more. I'm now in the midst of fiction reading, which is lovely lovely lovely and gives me time outside -- covered with sunscreen, of cours. Ah, bliss. I appreciate every day.

Sarah

2007-06-02T01:16:00.000-07:00

Sarah is an incredible person.

Paranoid? Well, that just confirms all my suspicions!

2007-05-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

This morning I met with my counselor up at the uni. I try to meet with her once or twice a month, but sometimes I really suck at that (I forget the appointment, for example) and sometimes scheduling doesn't make a meeting time convenient. Regardless, the point is I try to see her on a semi-regular basis, and today's session reminded me why these sessions are so important.

I've had mental health issues for years -- primarily depression, but grad school triggered new and worrisome anxiety issues. I'm still dealing with those issues. Last year I had a wee bit of a freak-out when I had to go off meds because of secondary health problems and ended up with symptoms of drug withdrawal plus the awesome bonus of stark anti-social depression. That pretty much sucked ass, but I found a new doctor, tried Prozac again (didn't work), tried a new med, started counselling, started a homeopathic regime and started to feel a bit better.

A bit.

Two years ago, I would not have said that grad school had anything to do with my mental health. I had issues and medical problems before, and most of my issues during the MA were related to being tired and genuinely burnt out -- I'd never taken a real break and I really didn't have much to offer intellectually. And some of my issues are probably just that -- mine. But the PhD has certainly taken a toll on me. The SSHRC process was hell, and I still feel like a loser because the PhD SSHRC was never a real possibility for me (facetious thanks to the uni grad committe) and never will be. No one was ever honest with me -- that was their fault -- but my fault was taking that dishonesty, which was probably their attempts at protecting me from very harsh criticisms, and spinning it into disapproval. And spinning that into paranoia.

Today my counselor told me my health concerns (which are utterly unfounded, and I knew that BUT still needed to hear it from someone else) have turned into a paranoia, and if I'm not careful that paranoia will make me delusional. That's hard to hear, especially now -- when I was 16, 18 or 20 I felt unstable, but these days I feel pretty stable in most ways, and yet I constantly undercut myself with bizarre insecure notions. And in some ways my continuing student identity has contributed to such feelings, which sucks.

But at the end of the day, I know this much: if every day could start with therapy, or even a self-directed therapy exercise, the remaining work day would be so, so much better.

A Whole New Way to Procrastinate....

2007-05-17T17:28:00.000-07:00

http://www.librarything.com/catalog/treava

More substantial entry to come -- once I'm done cataloging my library.

Why Orwell Kicks It

2007-04-28T19:07:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, Christopher Hitchens published Why Orwell Matters, a commentary/quasi-bio of English essayist and novelist George Orwell. I haven't read it, primarily because I'm too busy reading Orwell and haven't yet explored the commentary on Orwell, but the title resonates with me.

Orwell really kicks it. To be fair, I'm not an Orwell expert, and I'll admit that his idealistic Socialist opinions never seemed to reach any fruition (but to be fair, he died at 46 from TB) -- but his writings about poverty and the various humiliations that are tied up in poverty are, well, touching. I've never been as poor as Orwell, and Orwell was never as poor as some of the friends whose lives he narrates, but he does a damn good job of talking about poverty in a way middle-class folk can understand.

Does that sound strange? It shouldn't. The middle class as we know it today is a fairly new phenomenon, and middle-class living condition have changed drastically in the past 200 years. In the mid-19th century, firmly middle-class folk didn't necessarily own their homes, but they did employ servants. They spent money on school for their children and very little on vacations. They likely had tabs at local grocers and launderers, but they probably had little debt otherwise.

When Orwell writes about being poor, he writes about it as a member of a particular generation of middle-class folk, but his writing is relevant to current ideas about poverty and class today.

Have you ever thought, either about yourself or others, that if money is low the solution is to just not go out? Not do anything fun? Not spend money on non-essentials? Easier said than done, because, as Orwell points out, poverty is boring. It's complicated -- like the rent pay-day shuffle so many students these days have to deal with -- but life gets pretty monotonous when you don't have the money to do anything fun. In Down and Out in Paris and London, Orwell writes about living on the fringes of poverty:

You have thought so much about poverty--it is the thing you have feared all your
life, the thing you knew would happen to you sooner or later; and it, is
all so utterly and prosaically different. You thought it would be quite
simple; it is extraordinarily complicated. You thought it would be
terrible; it is merely squalid and boring. It is the peculiar LOWNESS of
poverty that you discover first; the shifts that it puts you to, the
complicated meanness, the crust-wiping.

And about the strange relief of finding yourself at rock-bottom:

And there is another feeling that is a great consolation in poverty. I
believe everyone who has been hard up has experienced it. It is a feeling
of relief, almost of pleasure, at knowing yourself at last genuinely down
and out. You have talked so often of going to the dogs--and well, here
are the dogs, and you have reached them, and you can stand it. It takes off
a lot of anxiety

I've never hit rock bottom, but a few times I've felt close. Luckily there are a lot of social safety nets out there, but the day I started looking up how to apply for welfare I realized how a lack of money can make you feel ashamed. Like you're somehow a bad person, even though your only real problem is cash flow. These days, few people in countries like ours starve, but we hide poverty. This really isn't anything new, at least according to Orwell. To keep up appearances, Orwell would spend his last francs on a drink while out with friends; these days, we patch up missing income with credit cards. We don't run tabs at stores, but we live on money borrowed from the bank. We lie about how much money we make, spend and save. So not much has changed in almost a hundred years: "all day you are telling lies, and expensive lies."

I don't know what it's like to be homeless, and besides the occasional day or two without money while travelling I don't know what it's like to go hungry. But it's naive to think that the things we do to keep up the appearance of prosperity and fill our days would suddenly change if we really did hit rock bottom. Orwell knew this, and part of his message about class was the need for empathy.

And a good glass of wine every once in a while.

It's the end of April?

2007-04-22T22:20:00.000-07:00

Where did this semester go?

I'm in the final stages of revising my dissertation proposal for the second time. I have a decent working bibliography going, and my critical reading is going well. My dissertation notebook is slowly filling up.

I was part of a seminar last week on how to pass your comps. I tried to give the students who are writing next year the dirt on how to study, how to write and how not to go crazy. Yisrael, another PhD candidate, said the exams were the worst part of the degree -- hellish, actually. I didn't find them hellish so much as ridiculous. The reading is great, the writing is stupid, and it's grand to have them out of the way.

I'm devoting the summer to writing and research. I've decided not to take on another TA position as I'm teaching next fall and spring. I'm applying for another student loan because the money will come in handy during Mike's off season. I'd like to get a trip up to the Comox Valley in some time, and perhaps a trip to a couple of the Gulf Islands.

The weather has been grand lately and I'm running regularly. I've painted my office, created a new desk from old furniture bits we had lying around, and today our landlord gave us a kick-ass marble-topped cafe table for the patio so I can work outside as well.

Bring on the sun. I'm hoping for a productive summer.

RIP Kurt Vonnegut

2007-04-11T21:16:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know I haven't posted in weeks, but this is important.

Kurt Vonnegut, easily one of the most important Anglo writers of the 20th century, has died.

He will be very much missed. I will always remember his Wide Open Beavers.

The PhD Timeline, doctor-t style

2007-03-21T19:47:00.000-07:00

People are always asking me how the PhD works and how long it takes. It differs depending on the department, university and country, but here's how my PhD goes:

Year 1

Coursework -- 1 bibliography & research course (pass/fail); 3 one-term seminars (assignments vary, but a long [15-20 page] paper at the end of the course is pretty standard)
Fulfill second and third language requirement -- most MAs require a second language, so only one additional language is required. This can be done by taking a course in German or French, sitting a translation exam, showing proof of 3rd year uni status in a language, or taking an advanced oral competency exam. The goal is reading knowledge of 2 languages other than English rather than fluency. Most people don't use their second or third languages unless they're native speakers.
Choose candidacy exam areas, supervisor and committee members. Start reading for first exam -- read read read read read
Make friends! Enjoy life on campus, because it will never be the same again.

Year 2

Write first candidacy exam in October (secondary field exam). Try not to freak out while waiting to hear results. Rethink how you study for exams because the next exam will be way better.
Study for second exam (major field) -- read read read read read
Write second candidacy exam. Results make you rethink again how you prepare.
Devise special topics reading list for third (and final) exam.
Study for last exam. Slowly realize your project has changed and oh my fucking god how am I going to write an exam I don't even care about anymore?

Year 3

Write final candidacy exam. Once again, results leave you miffed -- then you realize that it's an experience that isn't supposed to feel good. No matter how well you do, you will still suck in some way. Deal with it. Try to get over it.
Get a TA position in another department in the fall. Love the work, but it's a great procrastination tool for dissertation stuff.
Do a bunch of RA work in your field. Love it.
Revise dissertation proposal twice. Start work on the dissertation anyway.
Be happy goddamnit!
Write......

Year 4 -- TBD

I read a book

2007-03-14T15:02:00.000-07:00

Yeah, that about sums up today.

I woke up at 6:30 am after five hours of somewhat fitful sleep, dragged my ass our of bed, cleaned myself up, had coffee and a bagel and then hit the couch to read/nap after Mike left for work at 9. I managed to get some extra sleep but woke up with that groggy-what-the-hell-time-is-it feeling and gross coffee mouth. Coffee mouth isn't as bad as nap-after-a-beer-mouth (because even though I KNOW having a beer in the afternoon will make me sleepy I still indulge in the summer), or sick mouth, but it's gross enough.

I finished a book of short stories for the diss and then felt a migraine creeping up my neck so made some black tea in a mad dash to stave off the pain. Did some laundry, loaded the dishwasher, will read a chapter of criticism before I vacuum, then I'm headed out the door to buy groceries and hit good ole WW.

It's a beautiful day and normally I work very well on lovely days -- the view out the window is gorgeous and makes me happy -- but today is just meh. Bleah. Ungh. Not quite Bleargh, megh, or Urgh. Mehbleaungh.

Notes to Faculty.....

2007-03-09T18:35:00.000-08:00

*Don't talk about the state of your marriage or your spouse's mental health issues in front of a whole lot of students in a very loud voice. It makes everyone feel awkward and makes you look like a twit.

*Do develop some empathy. Not everyone has the privilege of attending university. People in difficult circumstances aren't in a blessed position in terms of being politically engaged. Maybe you knew some folks who were worse off than you and were politically active and very happy, but that doesn't mean people who don't have money have the luxury of less social propriety and thus more freedom. Not being able to pay the rent does not equal freedom.

*Do Stop praising each other so blatantly. It makes me want to puke. What happened to being critical?

*Do remember my name even when it's not directly to your benefit. It's not that hard to pronounce, really.

*Don't forget what you felt like as a grad student. Remember when you couldn't get your hands on enough money to go on a research trip? Remember when people rejected your proposals repeatedly? Remember how shitty it felt?

*Do tell me it's worth it. Please. Even if you don't mean it, I just need to hear it sometimes.

still standing....

2007-02-19T22:31:00.001-08:00

I haven't been blogging much lately. Not sure why. I've thought about not blogging anymore at all, but then I know I'll find stuff to blog about.

Work on the dissertation is moving along slowly. Finding primary source materials is brutally difficult, much more so than I thought, and I really think a trip to England is needed before I can finish the dissertation. I need a good week of scouring through periodicals and cheap books, which is something that I just can't do on-line or in our library. UVic has a decent stock of periodicals but not so much working class or socialist stuff. Interlibrary loan is my comrade right now, and unless I get a nice research grant it will be for quite some time yet.

I'm on a regular work schedule now. It's easier since Mike started working 9 to 5 (or 9:30 to 7:30, if he doesn't have to work on Friday). I took a break from work today to go for a run in the rain, and it was weirdly invigorating. I felt like Rocky Balboa, only taller, and wetter. I think my pants absorbed about 4 pounds of rainwater, and my vest was dripping wet when I got home. The parents picking up their kidlets at the daycare centre across the street from the track probably thought I was insane, or on crack (I do live in Fernwood, after all).

I submitted a conference proposal last week. The conference is in town, and I'll be attending regardless of whether or not my paper is accepted, so I figured I'd pull something out of my magic proposal hat and give it the old college try. I'm also thinking about devoting an hour or so each day to revising a couple papers from past conferences and classes. I'd like to get something published next year, and since academic publications have really slow turnaround I'll probably need to send stuff off in the next few months to ensure something in print for 2008.

I'm pretty happy these days, and some days almost hyper happy. It's a nice place to be.

Convalescence

2007-02-09T18:50:00.000-08:00

Today I'm feeling more human than I've felt in a week. I slept in and woke up without giant black under-eye circles. I've shopped a bit, picked up Braaten at the ferry and tidied the kitchen.

This week was a write-off. I managed to get some reading done, but nothing in terms of writing or revisions. I don't have time to be sick anymore, so I'm going to be carefully screening my time around children, as they almost always give me whatever disgusting school-based viruses are floating around.

Still feeling okay about the diss though. How does slum fiction and socialist aesthetics sound? Sounds neat to me.

Sicky

2007-02-05T15:30:00.000-08:00

Ugh.

Bronchitis sucks.

That is all.

Old Books Stink

2007-01-30T23:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to the library to pull some books on working-class fiction. I was there for a couple hours but spent very little time in the actual stacks -- hunting for 19th century British working class fiction is computer labour intensive because the catalogues of 19th century lit still suck a bit. So most of my time was spent in a fairly new study carrel, in a fairly young building (40 years, and recently updated or being updated), dealing with my own fairly new and clean computer. And I left the library feeling like I'd inhaled a pile of asbestos, dander and dust.

It's not just the stinky carpet or the construction dust -- there's actually not a lot of carpet in the library, and the construction work is confined to outside the rear of the building, and the windows looking over that area don't open. Fact is, old books make me sick. The library has about 2 million paper holdings (plus multi-media and microfilm/fiche) -- that's 2 million dusty, decaying, smelly tomes ready to attack my mucous membranes.

I left the library looking like a pot smoker, but a pot smoker who holds the joint on the left side of the mouth almost exclusively (my right eye was far less red and puffy). Feeling itchy and stuffed up isn't a great incentive to work in the library. I actually find the basement a little less allergenic (possibly because there are fewer paper holdings there, possibly because the carpet is newer), but all the books I need are normally on the third floor. Oh, and sitting by a window won't help. There are only a few windows that actually open, and they're small and near the floor. There's also no air conditioning and the ventilation system is generally horrible, which is bad for me, but also bad for the books and thus exponentially worse for me.

The university is springing for a huge library expansion, but my suggestion is to fix up the air filter system, rip out the carpet, and for god's sake rebound some of those smelly books. A million computers aren't going to make the place any cooler or less dusty, or my face any less pink. Ugh.

Naan? Really??

2007-01-27T23:47:00.001-08:00

Since my bloggy peers are most excited by my naan making skills, I figured I'd post my recipe and instructions. My oven sucks and I can still make good naan, so y'all should be able to make it too.

No-Yeast Naan Bread

4 cups white flour (Maida)
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 egg
4 tablespoons oil

Stir the flour, salt and baking powder into a bowl and make a well in the middle.

Mix the sugar, milk, eggs 2 tbsp of oil in a bowl.

Pour this into the center of the flour and knead. If you have a mixer, use the dough hook; if not, stir with a wooden spoon and then knead on a floured surface, adding water if necessary to form soft dough.

Add the remaining oil, knead again, then cover with damp cloth and allow the dough to stand for 15 minutes. Knead the dough again and cover and leave for 2-3 hours.

About half an before the naan are required, turn on the oven to maximum heat. If you have a baking stone, put it in the oven to warm up. I don't have a stone, but I use the underside of a large ceramic baking dish and always get perfect results. As long as the surface is unglazed you'll get good bread. An unglazed tile works as well.

Divide the dough into 6-8 balls and allow rest for 3-4 minutes.

Shape each ball of dough with the palms to make an oval shape. Pat it out on a floured surface until each piece is about 1 inch thick.

Bake the naan in small batches -- 2-3 at a time -- until puffed up and golden brown. Time will vary depending on your oven. Mine takes about 10 minutes for the first couple and about 7 minutes thereafter. They should bubble up and develop dark brown/slightly burnt bubbles. Don't pull them before they start to bubble and darken or they'll suck.

Let them cool on a wire rack. Whee -- yummy naan!

2007-01-26T15:13:00.000-08:00

Smarties, Raquel and llij have tagged me. I have to write five exciting bits about myself and then tag five other bloggers.

1. I have a horrible phobia of moths. I can trace it back to an accident I had as a kid, but I still can't get over my fear.

2. I have never owned a cell phone.

3. I can make naan bread from scratch.

4. I've never been able to do a cartwheel.

5. I've lived in 9 houses, 2 townhouses and 4 apartments. Now I live in the lower level of a house and have a kick-ass garden.

I'm going to tag wind-up bird, Goon (who sucks at blogging), Maryanne, Jaime and scs.

Bad Day, Better Night

2007-01-23T19:09:00.000-08:00

“Most of the time it was probably real bad being stuck down in a dungeon. But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you'd look out your little window and think, "Boy, I'm glad I'm not out in that."

Thanks are due to Jack Handy for the above bit of wisdom.

I had a shitty day today. I barely slept last night, missed two buses getting up to school, and then realized my counselling appointment was actually at 2, not 2:30, so I missed that and was stuck at school with no books or dissertation materials. I tried to hit payroll to get some money they owe me but they'd moved to a complex off the actual campus (what fucking genius decided PAYROLL should be a 15 minute walk from every other employee resource on campus? I mean, come on. Really.).

At that point I was ready to randomly smash terracotta pots, because they break nicely. Or scream -- screaming almost always helps.

Luckily things started looking up once I checked my department mailbox. A cheque was waiting for me -- glorious money! -- for the money payroll owed me, so I didn't have to trek to the new payroll office. Then I chatted with the grad chair and he made me feel human, smart and normal. Then I caught a bus that only comes 5 times a day to my bank and pharmacy. Then I walked home and actually enjoyed the walk.

I went for a run after getting home and it felt so effing good. Now I'm resting my feet in a snazzy massaging foot bath thing and having some wine. I'm still a bit frazzled, but I'm feeling better. I don't have that nasty I'm Going to Vomit or Cry or Beat Someone feeling I had earlier today. I don't feel like a complete loser because I wrote down the wrong time for an appointment. I don't think everything is falling apart because I missed the bus. Small things, but good things.

Last-Minute Poetry Friday

2007-01-19T23:55:00.000-08:00

Inspired by The Clutter Museum, I've decided to post one of my favourite poems. The author is Seamus Heaney, and the poem is from North (1975).

Mossbawn: Two Poems in Dedication

For Mary Heaney

I. Sunlight

There was a sunlit absence.
The helmeted pump in the yard
heated its iron,
water honeyed

in the slung bucket
and the sun stood
like a griddle cooling
against the wall

of each long afternoon.
So, her hands scuffled
over the bakeboard,
the reddening stove

sent its plaque of heat
against her where she stood
in a floury apron
by the window.

Now she dusts the board
with a goose's wing,
now sits, broad-lapped,
with whitened nails

and measling shins:
here is a space
again, the scone rising
to the tick of two clocks.

And here is love
like a tinsmith's scoop
sunk past its gleam
in the meal-bin.

Meetings

2007-01-19T18:29:00.000-08:00

This week I went up to the uni twice -- and NOT to use the library. I actually had dissertation-related meetings to attend. Joy! I went to a thesis-dissertation completion group on Thursday that made me feel like a normal doctoral candidate (scared, depressed, slowly making progress on the dissertation) and allowed me to reconnect with another English ABDer I haven't seen in a few months. A good day.

Today I had a meeting with my supervisor, and she gave me a small dissertation-related task to complete by next Friday (a chronology of books I'm writing about and historical events related to my topic). Now I feel like I have something real to do again, something to be accountable for. We're going to have regular meetings and hopefully have a chapter hammered out by the end of the semester. A good day.

That's two good days in a row. Things are looking up for Doctor T.

Random Wednesday Bits....

2007-01-17T19:20:00.000-08:00

Vague conference titles are stupid. What the hell does "Intersections, Margins, and Parellels in Cultural Production" mean? And why the serial comma? Ugh.
Ever wonder how many people will actually read all of your dissertation? I'm guessing five.
Apples can do serious damage to your gums.
I have the metabolism of a slug.
I still don't understand why I can't write off my tuition, and it pisses me off a bit more every year.
I worry too much about everything.
I have a hard time calling myself a "mature student" -- most days I feel anything but mature or studentish.
Making up words is okay. Pretending they're real isn't.
Snow on the west coast is just plain wrong. When you're praying for rain to clear out the snow, something is amiss.

Back to school, but not really....

2007-01-03T22:31:00.000-08:00

The holidays are technically over for me. The university opened up yesterday, and classes started today. I'm not in classes, though, and I really have nothing to do on campus besides using the library and occasionally popping in to the department to check my mailbox or meet with my supervisor. But it's still "back to school" time, which seems to confuse anyone who isn't familiar with the humanities PhD life.

When I was doing my MA, everyone assumed I was writing a thesis. I'd do my best to clear that misconception up ("no, it's a course-based program. I take graduate seminars and write long essays for each class. No, they're not as long as science/history/insert-other-subject papers. Because that's just the way English papers work. Right. Get it? No? [pokes own eye out]"). After the MA, I got a job teaching at my former uni, and then everyone asked me how my courses were -- only they didn't mean the courses I was teaching, because apparently what I'd explained the year before had only just sunk in, so they thought I was TAKING courses. It didn't get much better when I did start taking courses again in the first year of the PhD -- suddenly people were confused as to why I was taking courses, since I had already taken courses for my MA. Wasn't I done courses yet? ("No, the PhD still requires a year of coursework. No, not as much as the MA. I don't know why. Yes, I know they don't do coursework in England. Yay for England. Yay yay yay. [pokes other eye out]").

Explaining the second year -- reading hundreds of books and writing candidacy exams -- was pretty much pointless. Even older profs in my department didn't understand how the system works. I've ranted about it before, but the quick recap of second year is read too much-write pithy essays that are supposed to make it look like I read 300 books and can quote from memory even though I can't and it's all a giant artificial illusion-get marked by profs who still insist on pretending I should be producing amazing work in 3 hours even though they probably haven't written 3 essays in 3 hours on 300 books since they were PhD students and they probably sucked too but would never admit it-feel like shit after getting feedback but rejoice because I passed everything and then want to poke my eyes out once I realize my project has changed completely but have no eyes left to poke out because I lost them earlier in my schooling.

I'm starting the second semester of my third year now, and people have started asking me again how my courses are. I'm not sure what to say now. Maybe I should just smile, grit my teeth and say "Great!" and leave it at that. Or maybe I should make up little business cards that detail each year of the PhD and put a little sticker that says "I AM HERE" at the appropriate stage in the degree. Sort of a road map for the grad school uninitiated.

I have no idea what I'll say next year, when I'll be pretty much done writing but still in the throes and revision while I teach classes and apply for "real" jobs despite not having a degree yet. I foresee much confusion and eye-poking in the future.

On a more productive note, I'm off to write a page of my dissertation now. It's nearly 11pm, and I'm pumped. Go me!

Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us.

2007-01-01T19:14:00.000-08:00

I was born in 1980. Being born in a year ending in zero has been a blessing for me, as I can always remember how old I am, or what age I will be later in the year, by looking at the calendar. This might sound silly, but as a child I loved it, and for someone who still counts numbers using a system of dots, the simplicity of the zero-ending system is a gift. I feel sorry for people who don't have the lovely simplicity of a zero-ending birth year.

I've never been a great lover of New Year's Eve celebrations. As a child, I was never awake at midnight. As a young teenager, I babysat, expecting the awesome windfall of $100 in cash, but I never got more than $50 (I gave up babysitting on New Year's Eve fairly early on as a result). As an older teenager, I was either at home or drunk in the woods, and as an adult I've yet to establish any sort of New Year's routine. Usually we end up with an impromptu social of some sort, but it's rarely an amazing party. I can't say I'm bothered, honestly; last night we spent the night with friends and some of their friends, and the night was short and passable but certainly not a ring-dinging, memory-making event.

But that's not necessarily a bad thing. 2006 left me a bit frazzled, so some downtime to end the year is a good thing. I've made a few plans/resolutions for the year (the most important being to write a bit of my dissertation every day), but all I really want is some serenity. I'm not going to dwell on the bad stuff from the past year. I'm not even going to bother idealizing the good stuff -- whatever happened happened, and it was good, and that's nice. I'm quite happy to coast into a new year in my happy home and keep living.

Best to all!

Merry Ecksmas!

2006-12-25T14:05:00.000-08:00

Thank you Futurama....

                                     BENDER
                         Ah! Nothing like a warm fire and a Super
                        Soaker of fine cognac.

              
               [He squirts some into his mouth.]

              
                                     FRY
                         Yeah, it really puts you in the Christmas
                        spirit.

              
                                     FARNSWORTH
                         What-mas?

              
                                     FRY
                         Christmas. You know? X-M-A-S.

              
                                     LEELA
                         Oh, you mean Xmas. You must be using
                        an archaic pronunciation. Like when
                        you say "ask" instead of "aks".

I'm happy to report that I've done absolutely nothing related to school or work for over a week now. Bliss! I hope everyone else is being as lazy as I am. Xmas sloth rocks.

Yearly Review

2006-12-21T21:43:00.000-08:00

Another meme. After seeing it at Queen of West and The Clutter Museum, I couldn't resist.

Record the first sentence of the first blog post of every month this year.

January: Let me introduce you to the Poopsmith.

February: I haven't been doing this blog thing for a long time, but I've been doing my best to make my blog thematic, pretty, and decently entertaining (for me, at least).

March: This morning I finally finished my woefully overdue special topics reading list.

April: A couple Christmases ago I gave the hubster the "Don't be a jerk" postcard as a greeting card.

May: ...and it's not because I'm a round-heeled woman.

June: I was in Toronto last week.

July: I'm not really the poor blogger (that title has already been claimed by a very funny blogger I recently discovered) but I have been rather remiss in my blogging lately.

August: A: Some kind of health problem strikes.

September: I'm ABD -- all but dissertation, all but done, almost bloody done, all beer day -- whatever you call it, I've got those letters.

October: Last year, after my SSHRC proposal didn't get it through the uni AGAIN, I promised myself I wouldn't get all pissy and upset over the process this year.

November: The short answer is:

In Calgary
In Lethbridge
In ridiculous amounts of pain thanks to bronchitis (now gone) and a sinus infection (still here)

December: First, apologies for the extended break. I've been lazy.

Meme Christmas

2006-12-20T19:17:00.000-08:00

The title isn't a typo. I stole this from Dr. Couz.

1. Hot Chocolate or Egg Nog?
Nog, but diluted with some skim milk, spiked with spiced rum and sprinkled with nutmeg. Hot Chocolate is good after winter activities, but it often makes my tummy upset.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
Wrapped -- well, Mrs. Claus probably does the wrapping.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
Coloured. I miss big lights. Tiny lights are pretty but not nearly as retro-fun.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No. My cat would probably eat it (she can jump pretty high).

5. When do you put your decorations up?
Whenever I get around to it. We just put up the tree yesterday, and last year we didn't decorate at all as we were out of town. Meh, I'm not fussed about decorations. Just hand me some nog!

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Stuffing and nalysnky.

7. Favorite Holiday memory?
Ukrainian food -- including the stink of holubtsi, even though I still don't eat it. I'll make it, but I just can't get into the sour cabbage taste.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
Erm, maybe when I was 9?

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
Only when I have a lot of gifts under the tree.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree?
Unbreakable decorations. Tess loves knocking them down.

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it?
Like the look of it, like to play in it, don't much care for living with it for the entire winter season.

12. Can you ice skate?
Not very well. I am not what one would call well-balanced.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
Hockey gear when I was a kid. Loved it!

14. What’s the most important thing?
The food, friends and happiness. I don't stress about Christmas, and it's always good.

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert?
I don't care much for desserts generally, but a nice apple crisp with vanilla ice cream is pretty dreamy -- especially if it's Mom's apple crisp and Dad's homemade ice cream.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
Um, the food?

(This meme should make it clear exactly WHY I'm on Weight Watchers. :p)

17. What tops your tree?
A hand-me-down plastic faux candle. It's quite pretty, actually.

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
Giving! Especially for my parents, sister and brother-in-law and Mike.

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song?
Ukrainian Bell Carol.

20. Candy canes, Yuck or Yum?
They're good in hot cocoa. I can never finish a whole one on its own!

If you're reading this, you're tagged. Go to it bitches!

No More SSHRC

2006-12-20T09:46:00.000-08:00

My SSHRC application once again did NOT make it past the university. This is my fourth and last attempt. I am no longer eligible to apply for SSHRC PhD funding. This is both a good and bad thing.

Applying for the SSHRC every year was the most exhausting, humiliating and stressful part of my doctoral program. Nothing has made me feel as inadequate and stupid as the SSHRC process. The application process is beyond stupid. I will never actually know if I actually deserved a SSHRC because the fuck-wads in Grad studies never actually sent my SSHRC on. Essentially, my application was being evaluated by a whole bunch of people with no interest in my field who were trying to bureaucratically figure out which applications were most strategic in order to maximize the university's SSHRC funding.

Every year I improved my application and every year they didn't give a shit. I honestly think they just made up random suggestions for improvement, because not once have they made a difference. I'm also at a loss to how students with NO conference papers are awarded CGS SSHRCs, but my multiple professional VETTED conference papers don't even get me past stage 1 of the application process. Despite having a University Fellowship, I'm not good enough to get past phase 1.

Fucked.Up.

So I'm glad to be done, but I'm bitter. I think the vetting process is flawed and biased towards social sciences. I'll admit that I'm miffed that the CGS recipients in my department are uniformly older, with wider experience outside of the uni and more pressing financial situations (children, for example). I know it sounds petty, but the SSHRC process really fucks with my head. Every year I felt worthless after getting that god-damned form letter from the Grad faculty.

So it's done. I will never have a doctoral SSHRC. I will never know if I actually deserved a doctoral SSHRC. On the plus side, I will never have to go through that ridiculous, humiliating and degrading experience again.

So fuck you screening committee. I hope karma bites you in the ass.

Popular? Huh?

2006-12-13T23:07:00.000-08:00

No one has left a comment on my blog in weeks. WEEEEEKS. What the hell is up with that? Normally that would leave me into a spiral of self-hatred and massive depression, but not this week. This week, I discovered the most amazing thing: someone has cited me in an article about the Battlestar Galactica video game. What's even more amazing is the fact that the article they cite (although they don't actually *cite* me -- they just included me in the "Works Cited" list) has never been published. Wow. Apparently my intelligence and incredible writing skills are no longer confined to reality. Now, my work has managed to infiltrate writings across North America before I've released anything other than an abstract! Fuck SSHRC -- that's what I call influence (ha!).

10 Things for Monday

2006-12-11T14:26:00.000-08:00

(Thanks to Furry Floors for the inspiration.)

1. I have a cold, so I'm feeling rather crap.
2. Christmas is a mere two weeks away, and I'm nowhere near being in the holiday swing of things. I need a tree, decorations, more hot apple cider and a party or two.
3. All the snow is gone. The weather is now typical island winter weather -- blustery, rainy, gray.
4. I'm pretty sure I could eat a horse today and still have that weird empty-tummy feeling.
5. I officially started my Xmas shopping yesterday.
6. I anticipate being able to run again in the new year (yay!).
7. I've decided to host a pre-Christmas dinner at our place so I have a good excuse to make Ukrainian food, drink fancy booze and eat our famous stuffing.
8. I'm contemplating auditing a German speaking class in the spring or summer semester.
9. University scholarship awarding processes suck ass.
10. Today is all about the marking.

On Working in the Academy Part I -- TAing

2006-12-07T22:25:00.001-08:00

First, apologies for the extended break. I've been lazy.

I thought I'd start my series by talking about the most common grad student work experience: being a TA (teaching assistant).

The duties of TAs vary widely depending on the university, department, and program a student attends. Science TAs normally lead a lab or tutorial, and are generally overworked and under-appreciated by both students, admin and their "boss," who is usually their supervisor. If you want to read a bit about the joys of being a science TA, explore some of the archives over at Rantastic. Generally, science TAs have it rough, and I don't envy them. Social Science and Education TAs probably fall somewhere in between Science and Humanities TAs. Social Science students generally have better funding that humanities students so may not have to worry as much as Humanities students about where dinner will come from, and they seem to face less direct stress from their bosses that Science students. It's harder to generalize about Humanities TAs, because their duties vary so widely between departments and universities. I'll try to stick to recounting my own experiences as a TA in English, so please don't be offended if I make a statement that utterly does not apply to other programs.

Generally, TAships are part of an English grad student's funding package. Most MA programs have automatic TAships for new students, but some (like my current uni) do not, and instead offer tutoring jobs in, say, a writing help drop-in centre and fellowships specifically for MA students. My first TA position was at Jackass University, where the TAs were not unionized and therefore were not paid by the hour, but rather by stipend. The rest of my funding came in the form of a graduate award distributed by the Faculty of Graduate Studies. I believe TAs at J.U. are now unionized, which is a good thing -- I once sat down and figured out how much I was getting paid per hour based on the amount of work I did, and it was just under $10 an hour. Pretty darn low. Anyway, at the start of the year we were given the option to request to TA for a certain 1st or 2nd year course or leave our assignments in the hands of random matching. I chose to volunteer for a 2nd-year course in my field of interest. Interestingly enough, the second year classes at J.U. were almost double the size of 1st-year classes, so in a way I got a raw deal, as my pay was the same as another TA who was marking fewer papers. But I was okay with that since I was getting experience in my field. Yay me, right? Well, maybe not. Because what I got wasn't really teaching experience. It was marking experience. And we (two TAs were assigned per course) had zero input on the actual assignments. Oh, and the profs didn't actually mark anything but the final exam. So to summarize: prof lectures and devises assignments, we mark and meet with students, and then prof marks final exam. The prof has no clue if students have improved over the year or what their style, voice and interests are. We have no clue if they performed well on the final and thus can't provide a true evaluation of their progress outside of quantitative grading. And while I think that system is a bit wonky, I did come out with a pretty decent sense of how to mark and how to interact with students on a one-to-one basis. In the end, it was probably the undergrad students who got the raw deal.

Still, with all the flaws in that system of TAing, the one for MAs at my current uni may be even stupider. New MA students either get a full MA fellowship or a combination of a fellowship and a job in the writing centre. Don't get all excited by the idea of a writing centre, though: it's really just an office space with a couple desks and some writing handbooks, staffed by one or two students. PhD students don't have to TA, but can teach as sessional (aka slave) lecturers in their 4th and subsequent years -- which is a good thing, because the PhD fellowships dry up after 3 years. The logic of the 4th year teaching stint escapes me, since 4th year is when one should be finishing up the writing of their dissertation, not opening up a whole new can of worms by learning how to teach. But cheap labour has to come from somewhere, and PhD students do need to learn how to teach sometime before they graduate, so I guess the system does, in some weird way, work to our advantage. Oh, and TAships are sometimes available to students, but the majority go to MA students since their fellowship is smaller, and most of the TAships are for distance ed. classes, or are more administrative rather than academic -- assisting a teacher with recording technology for a grad class, for example. I applied for TAships in my department for two years and never got a position. Some MA students who had external funding got positions, which defeats the purpose of a top-up since those students already had more money than PhD students by virtue of getting an MA sshrc that paid much, much more than an internal MA fellowship (that's a whole other rant).

Right now, I'm TAing for a distance ed. class outside of my home department. It's been an interesting experience, and I've certainly learned a lot about the subject, the way distance education works, and the way I evaluate students. My students come from various programs, backgrounds, countries and age groups, and I never came across that kind of diversity at Jackass Uni, or in my teaching work after my MA (which I'll talk about in Part III). As at Jackass Uni, my supervisor is quite cool and appears to have confidence in my marking abilities, and that's nice -- the hubster certainly didn't have a good experience with one of his supervisors at Jackass Uni, and that can really fuck up one's TA experience. I'm also more than fairly compensated for my time, as the union at my uni is quite strong. And I like teaching, even if what I'm doing isn't traditional teaching work.

But that's not to say TAing is all roses and lollipops. Marking kills the soul in so, so many ways. Sometimes it's the isolation; sometimes it's the under-appreciation; sometimes it's just the mind-numbingly horrible work that certain students submit. I understand that undergrads get stressed out. I get it. I was an undergrad not so very long ago, and I had TAs too. But please, if anyone out there reading this is a student, be nice to your TA. Our heads hurt. We make mistakes. Sometimes, we lose our patience. Please don't harass us 5 minutes after we return an assignment -- take a breather, and give us one too. Please don't think that just handing in an assignment will guarantee you a 70. Please read the assignment and ask questions BEFORE it is due. And please, please don't run to the prof before talking to us. Nothing kills the soul more than that.

So, that's a bit about TAing. Any questions?

On Work in the Academy -- A Preface

2006-11-18T01:22:00.000-08:00

After watching a couple inspiring episodes of The Wire (one of my fave shows ever) I was inspired to finally begin writing my long-proposed series of blog entries on working in the academy. This entry will serve as a preface in that it's not entirely about the academy but more about one of the things that lured me into academia -- teaching (the other is writing, but that entry will be much, much later).

Both my parents were trained as teachers. My mom did a two-year teaching certificate at U of Regina (then a subsidiary of U of Sask.), and my dad did a B.Ed. at the same place (geography and economics double major, stats minor -- and he did it in 3 full years).

I remember mom telling me that she didn't do a full degree because she didn't feel she could afford it, even with student loans -- she came from a pretty poor background. She worked outside of school every year she was in uni. Mom has always been a champion of my continuing student status, and it's affected me greatly ever since I was wee. In fact, she went back to university when my sis and I were kids, and she did so while working, which pretty effing impressive, in my books -- I can barely manage my own household, and I don't have kids or a full-time job in my field outside of school. My dad has always encouraged me to write, because he says being able to write naturally is a gift -- which it can be, but it's also a skill that those not so comfortable with writing can learn, and I hope I can help people with their writing skills through my career. I'm lucky, because not all perma-students have great support from their family, and that makes finishing the long journey towards the PhD even more difficult. I don't think my parents are supportive because they were teachers (both work in other fields now), but perhaps their teaching background makes them more understanding of my long-term goal -- to be a professor at a university.

Huh. Typing it out makes it sound so boring, but I can assure you that I didn't half-assedly decide to purse an academic career. I didn't just get into grad school and never get out. I only took one year off, but that year, combined with the previous MA year at Jackass Uni, solidified my desire to become an English prof. Oh, I guess I should also add that my (combined) years of being a piano teacher, a research assistant, a teaching assistant and an impromptu-sure-I'll-help-you-with-your-essay-tutor.... well, all those things helped too.

So now, here I am, a working member of the academy. Right now I'm a research assistant, a teaching assistant and a full-time PhD ABD student, and I'm going to write an entry on each of these jobs in the next couple weeks.

So check back soon.

Oooh! A Meme!

2006-11-14T23:37:00.000-08:00

I stole this from ariberkana, aka the owner of what once was Thesis-Induced Rants and Rambling and is now Where Do I Go From Here?
It's supposed to be less wordy than most memes, but meh -- I'm a wordy person.

1. Yourself:
vivacious

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend.....
Don't have one -- I'm married

3. Your hair?
short

4. Your mother?:
tanned (but not a sun worshiper)

5. Your Father:
sun worshiper (yet not tanned)

6. Your Favorite Item:
erm, water bottle?

7. Your dream last night:
Oddly enough, I don't remember

8. Your Favorite drink:
G&T -- fab, and I can only have two max. Perfect drink!

9. Your Dream Car:
Something small

10. The room you are in:
den

11. Your Ex:
Korea

12. Your fear:
illness

13. What you want to be in 10 years:
employed!

14. Who you hung out with last night?
the hubster

15. What You're Not?
thin

16. Muffins:
fresh

17: One of Your Wish List Items:
slip cover for the couch

18: Time:
pretty late

19. The Last Thing You Did:
surfed (the net)

20. What You Are Wearing:
pjs

21. Your Favorite Weather:
Mild, or really, really cold -- but only if I'm inside

22. Your Favorite Book:
Jane Eyre

23. The Last Thing You Ate:
chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy

24. Your Life:
pretty darn good

25. Your Mood:
done for the day

26. Your best friend (s):
loyal

27. What are you thinking about right now?
food

28. Your car:
Smokey

29. What are you doing at the moment?
This -- duh

30. Your summer:
solo travel, broken ankle

31. Your relationship status:
pretty darn good!

32. What is on your tv?
Stephen Colbert; a DVD player

33. What is the weather like?
Damp and dark

34. When is the last time you laughed?
a couple minutes ago

So, did y'all learn anything about me? Probably not, but I kinda did.

Where Have I Been?

2006-11-14T13:35:00.000-08:00

The short answer is:

In Calgary
In Lethbridge
In ridiculous amounts of pain thanks to bronchitis (now gone) and a sinus infection (still here)

I have several academic topics to blog/bitch about but they'll have to wait a few hours. I need some painkillers right now.

Academics are supposed to be sedentary, right?

2006-10-13T15:44:00.000-07:00

It's reasonable to say that I read and write for a living. Sometimes I read more than I write, and sometimes I end up doing a lot of photocopying, talking with profs, lecturing or defending -- but still, my job is basically desk or library rooted. So you'd THINK that any REASONABLE person whose job is so non-physical would be fine with a little forced rest. But I'm so not that reasonable person. I've been told not to run, hike or speed walk for several weeks. I can swim, I can do weights, I can do the recumbent bike if I'm careful. I can still exercise, and I still do, but what I really want to do is run.

I mean really really REALLY want to run. I am jealous when I see people running on the street. I half want to be them and half want to punch them in the head because they probably don't realize how bloody lucky they are.

I never ran until about 6 months ago. Growing up, a had a myriad of annoying health problems related to bone and soft tissue development, plus really flat feet, so I basically sucked at all things running-related. Gym teachers suck ass, even more so that kids in my experience, and did nothing but make me feel like a freak and a failure. It wasn't until I was in my early 20s that I began to realize that I actually could do athletic things, but I might have to do them slower, or differently, because of my body. So I swam and biked and started weight-lifting -- another thing I now love and kick ass at -- and after the debacle of the MA weight gain I committed myself to losing weight. When I'd lost about 30 pounds, I started walking -- fast -- outside, because Victoria is pretty and I wanted to exercise in the fresh air. And one day I started running, and it was as simple as that. I can run -- in fact, I'm a better runner than walker. I never hurt after a run. My posture is better. My hips stay in place. And it feels so fucking good.

But when you break your ankle you gotta let the ankel heal after the cast comes off. Apparently I suck at letting things heal, because about a week after I got the cast off I tried some fast walking with a couple sprints built in. And then some more. And then I was pretty much running half the time and walking half the time. And then I did the treadmill and actually ran more than I walked. And then my ankle went poufy again and I went to my physiotherapist and he looked at me like I was a crazy person (and he's blind, so when he looks at you like a crazy person you know you must be crazy) and told me to stay the heck off my foot -- for at least a few more weeks.

It sucks. Gar.

My name is Doctor t, and I'm a running addict. Detox is really boring.

How Do I Chillax?

2006-10-04T19:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had an appointment with a therapist to help me deal with my anxiety. I won't go into the details of the meeting here, but it was both exhausting and extremely helpful. I feel like I CAN take control of my anxiety.

This morning I evaluated the various priorities in my life and realized I have a lot on my plate right now. I can't take on anything else. I need to concentrate on what I'm doing now, stop fussing about the future and stop taking on new projects.

I also need to learn how to chillax. Chillaxing is the art of not only relaxing, but chilling -- relaxatio is often forced onto one after a spell of busyness and physical activity, but chilling is an altogether different thing -- it's a mental state where you feel cool and hip and satisfied. Chillaxing is rest combined with self-satisfaction, and I've yet to learn how to do it. But trust me, it doesn't involve marking student assignments. Oy -- but that's a whole other post.

I Suck

2006-10-02T16:40:00.000-07:00

Last year, after my SSHRC proposal didn't get it through the uni AGAIN, I promised myself I wouldn't get all pissy and upset over the process this year. Today, however, the jealousy monster decided it was prime time to make me feel like shit again. I'm feeling pissy about being passed over again.

I know I shouldn't feel pissy. I've done a lot in the past year: written two conference papers and delivered them at two respected conference in my field; worked a few RA/TA jobs; had my poetry published, and invited to read my poetry at a fundraiser; been nominated for a major university research award; and passed all my various candidacy exams. But my past week of dissertation-related uselessness means I'm finding ways to criticize myself, and the fucking SSHRC competition is always there, peeking its stupid little money-giving head at me. Fuckity fuck fuck. I'm afraid the new PhD students will outshine me. Why do I let my insecurities run amok?

I'm trying to clean up the house right now. Hopefully a happy environment and tidy desk space will help me get on the road to work so I can forget about all these self-defeating jealous feelings my brain keeps cranking out.

A-hem....

2006-09-27T14:35:00.000-07:00

So I'm a shitty blogger. I ADMIT IT! GET OFF MY BACK ALREADY! Sheeesh.

Actually, not a soul has commented on my lack of blogging recently. That's really pathetic -- it means you're all used to me taking long breaks from writing and it doesn't even bother you. Well, it should. So there. Bah.

Anyway, onto some news. I'm now TAing for a course outside of my home department, and I've just received word that I've got an RA job in my department -- and in my actual field of expertise to boot. I knew the fall would be better than the summer. No cast, more money, actual work commitments and scheduling -- this is the life every academic dreams of! Although the no cast thing is probably of less importance to others. It's damn important to me though.

On the downside, my place is a total pigsty and I hate cleaning. Anyone willing to trade some writing lessons for housecleaning?

It's Official!

2006-09-11T16:01:00.000-07:00

I'm ABD -- all but dissertation, all but done, almost bloody done, all beer day -- whatever you call it, I've got those letters. My final oral exam was today and it went better than I expected, although I wouldn't advise eating fish the night before an exam when you tend to have anxious tummy problems. Salmon + stress = pain.

So now I'll be a full-time writer. What does that mean anyway? It means I need a revitalized writing space, so this week I'm going to paint my snug. I don't have an office -- the den houses our computer, but it also acts as a TV-cum-guest room, so I inhabit a small nook instead. My snug is off the kitchen, within good earshot of the stereo, and far enough away from the TV that people can watch it and I can be undisturbed. But it is, like most of our main room, yellow, and it's just not serene enough for my creative tastes. The colour I've chosen is actually called "Dreamweaver." It's a lovely sage green, the name cracks me up, and it goes nicely with the giant pre-Raphaelite poster that dominates the space.

I promise more updates in the future. I need to get into writing mode, and morning/afternoon blogging seems like a decent motivator. Just be prepared for my new entries to be really fucking boring, unless you happen to enjoy musings on Chartism and Victorian unionism.

The Third Hoop

2006-08-18T19:55:00.000-07:00

Today I wrote my final candidacy exam. It ended up being all about crowds, whereas my original proposal was about mobs, and my eventual dissertation will be about working-class demonstrations -- in literature, for all of the above.

I'm feeling pretty good about it. It's amazing how stupid jumping the exam hoops actually is, though -- no one writes three essays in seven hours in academia, unless they're totally fucking insane, and maybe hopped up on coke (although that's really unlikely, because academics probably can't afford coke. Generally, we can barely afford car payments).

In about 2 or 3 weeks, after I've revised my dissertation proposal, I'll have an oral exam on my list and my proposal, and then I can put the little letters "PhD ABD" beside my name. ABD means all but dissertation -- so, in other words, the fun of writing begins once those words are attached.

Mike made me a celebratory dinner since we're too broke to go out, and in so many ways staying at home after a seven hour exam (that I wrote on five hours of sleep) is actually very preferable to dinner out, where you have to get all dressed up and not be loud and assy all night. Being stupid at home is so much more fun!

Q: How do you know my next exam is coming up?

2006-08-01T17:20:00.000-07:00

A: Some kind of health problem strikes.

With my first exam, it was a flu (and a postponed exam). Exam #2 was paired with a staph infection from a cat bite. My final exam is in two weeks, and my foot is broken.

No, really -- I rolled on my (3x sprained) ankle, ripped the tendons, and fractured the bone on Friday night. While walking. AFTER I ran my first 5km timed run in the afternoon (which rocked ass, by the way). About 5 blocks from my house. Fucked up, no?

Anyway, I'm actually not feeling too bad about it. The shittiest part is not being able to run, especially since I was so pround of myself after my 5km run. But in a way, being crippled is good for a control freak, because it takes one thing out of my hands, and thus off my mind. My crippling anxiety has been totally alleviated by my actual crippling injury. I've finished almost 3 novels since Saturday. My brain is totally devoted to pulling together all the threads of reading from the last few months, and I don't feel any guilt about not doing housework or laundry. It's like my body is loving the downtime! And my brain doesn't worry about my body as a result. And that's a good thing, because I have some deep revisions in my future.

Here's why: as I mentioned in a previous post, I recently found a dissertation that's about what my dissertation was going to be about. I've read some of it, and ordered the entire thing, and I know already that it's really close to what I was proposing to write. Three of the novels I proposed to write on in depth were already addressed by this dissertation, and I was familiar with all but one of the novels mentioned. Oh, and the writer of this dissertation had a SSHRC sometime in the late 90s/early 2000s, so all my chances would have been out the window even if my SSHRC app had made it through the uni. So my project is evolving into something new, and I'm actually happy about it. Lately I've become more interested in literature of labour and unions, and the socialist and anarchist movements that emerged at the turn of the century. I'm also hoping to read a bit of genre criticism and theory, because a lot of the books I've been reading seem to model themselves on the mystery genre, and I really don't know why. I've read some pretty interesting memoirs/autobiographies as well, so maybe that will produce something fruitful for the dissertation.

Anyway, I'm overall pretty happy with everything right now. Broken foot, new dissertation, impending final exam -- hey, what's not to like, right? No, I can't explain my good mood, but I'll take it nonetheless.

In Case You Were Wondering....

2006-07-24T23:33:00.000-07:00

This is what I looked like as a baby -- not a newborn, but still a pretty cute kid.

It's Thanks Mom Day! aka my birthday

2006-07-24T14:32:00.000-07:00

26 years ago my pain-tolerant momma had a 9lb 2oz baby girl at Surrey Memorial Hospital. She and my dad chose a sufficiently bizarre name to christen my big bald head, and my sister ignored my boring babiness.

Today, the husband took me out for a picnic lunch on Gonzales Bay to celebrate the 26 years I've been around. I'd say Gonzales Bay is a step up from Surrey, so I'm feeling pretty good today.

The Poor Blogger

2006-07-16T16:26:00.000-07:00

I'm not really the poor blogger (that title has already been claimed by a very funny blogger I recently discovered) but I have been rather remiss in my blogging lately. As my regular readers (friends and fellow academicians -- hiya!) might have sensed, the spring months were pretty shitty for me. Mentally, emotionally, motivationally -- it was a rough season. I was underwhelmed by ACCUTE, but my trip to England and the INCS conference were effing amazing.

My family continues to rock ass. Kudos to my sis and BIL for putting up with my parents and me for almost 2 weeks, especially since I was such a pill the first few days (and every morning -- I am a total morning bear). We went to Scarborough, Kenilworth, pubbing, for a good curry, to London, and shopping shopping shopping. Britain has so much style -- I did my best to soak it up but, alas, I'm still a Canadian bum at heart. Har.

The conference was great. Durham is one of the prettiest cities I've ever seen, and the host college took hosting to a new level of, erm, hostiness. And it was so great to be surrounded my so many musicologists. They have a great attitude -- don't take themselves nearly as serious as my fellow lit scholars. As a music geek deep in my inner core, I felt privileged to be around such cool folks. And the keynote speaker was a super nice guy who hung out late at night and drank beer!! Having dealt with a couple keynotes myself, I can say that they could learn a lot about professionalism and grace from someone like P.V.B.

My paper went really really really really really well. The presentation format was totally me, and the questions afterwards really made me think about some of the issues I'd only touched on while writing. I'm actually looking forward to expanding the paper and sending it off for publication. I have high hopes.

Upon returning to Canada, and snagging an early flight to the island, Mike and I were lucky enough to see two of our best friends get hitched in true island style. They are a fab couple and looked gorgeous (as did Mike and I, esp. since I was wearing my London-born lilac ensemble -- thanks mom!).

The only bits of bad news I have are as follows: a stomach flu following a transatlantic flight sucks ass, and so does finding a dissertation that's about, well, my dissertation -- and mere months before starting to write. But that's a whole other entry, and I promise to deliver it soon.

Ah. It's good to be back.

What Is Up

2006-06-19T20:56:00.000-07:00

Sadly, not much is up. I am still finishing a summer conference paper, and my final candidacy exam has been delayed until mid-August (making my final oral exam a September event). To be truthful, I have no problem with the delayance (not a word -- ha!) of my final exam, but it'd be grand if my committee members could inform of their whereabouts when an exam has already been scheduled and they've okayed it. Because come on, how hard is it to email someone? Gah.

Anyhootenanny....
I have been neglectful of my academic blog because I've been feeling very blah about most academic things. That is not normal for me, and I think it's largely due to my recent weaning from a drug that fucked up my head, a recent health problem re: a person very important to me, and a whole lotta exhaustion. Luckily, I've found a new sense of purpose in terms of my academic self. I've decided that my ideas matter, even if they're not buttressed by hundreds of important critics. I know they matter because I care about my ideas and my students are inspired by my ideas. I'm a reasearcher and an educator, and I wouldn't want to sacrifice either for the sake of money or reputation -- how could I live with myself if I did?

Toronto, part 2

2006-06-12T18:16:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've been neglecting my blog. But really, I've been neglecting everything. I think my brain has been replaced by yogurt. But that's a whole other entry.

Monday -- Day 3

Monday was ROM day -- I walked down to the museum and realized a few things along the way: the village in Toronto is really cool, and city parks suck ass. Har. Queen's Park was graced with a large statue of King Edward VII and way too many plaques, all on a mound of dirt. Some new grass seed is needed. I've artfully distressed the King so things look, uh, artier.
This is the park behind the legislative buildings, but it was looking very ruddy (although I'm a bit spoiled since I live in the land of milk and honey). But hey, atleast it's a park.

The ROM was chocka full of exhibits, so I only made it through a few sections. Their European history wing is super, but my favourite exhibit was the Lalique glass. If anyone wants to send me a gift, this vase would do quite nicely. Before I hit the museum, I had my first taste of Toronto street meat. And it was good.

After the museum Phil, Karen and I walked our way to a liquor store as the TTC was on strike. It was about 40 degrees, so the walk was kinda gross, but we did happen upon a hot rugby team from England while walking so that made it worth it (no pics, sorry -- but I'm sure Karen has some mental images stored away as "my birthday present"). Then we did the most touristy of tourist Toronto attractions: the CN Tower.

And yes, it's all the tallness you thought it would be. I actually felt sick looking up at it, but I was fine when we made it to the top. The scariest part wasn't the height, or the price, or the elevator -- it was the two dozen teenagers screaming in French and jumping all over the place. They kinda made me wish the glass floor would break so they'd shut up.

After the tower we went to dinner at a steak house and comfortably pigged out. I had to have an early night as the next day was conference day -- the actual reason I was in Toronto. Oh, yes, had you forgotten I was there to read a paper? I kinda did too.

Tuesday -- Day 4

Conference Day! I walked to the subway, transferred to another line, then found the express bus to York. It was a hot, sunny, busy day -- one of those days when everyone on the bus is sweaty and tired and wishing they'd worn a cooler shirt. It took me about 90 minutes to get from my hotel to campus (there was a train delay) and the commute made me very happy I was staying downtown rather than at the uni. I liked the look of the campus -- big, grassy, modern -- but insiders tell me it's hell in the winter and far too sprawling to be manageable. I registered and found my room without a problem and ran into a couple people from JA University. Pleasantries were exchanged, although a bit less so when I saw one of my old profs from JA uni. I wasn't really surprised.

The panel was fine, although rather short. My paper was fun and I'm planning on sending it off somewhere once I do a few revisions that were motivated by a question from the audience. Overall, though, the panel was underwhelming. There wasn't really any sense of community, even though it was ostensibly the association's annual meeting place (although I didn't go to the AGM, so maybe I missed out on all the fun). I got a free bagged lunch, roamed around campus for a bit, got my internet fix (the Jolie-Pitt baby was born and I hadn't heard about it!! I was gossip-starved) and checked out the book fair before calling it a day and heading back to the city. Oh, yes -- the theme of the congress was "The City" and it was out in suburban York. Um, yeah.

I roamed around downtown for a bit and bought a disposable camera to take new snaps as my camera had run out of juice at the tower the night before (despite the new battery, it died so quickly the lens wouldn't even close. I blame the heat!). Tuesday night was spent with Karen & Phil and their very lovely hotel, the Grand. That first beer on the patio was possibly the best summer beer ever, and the night got better from there. We hung out on the rooftop patio and Phil prepared a yummy appy feast. And we had tetra pack wine! So effing cool.

The night was wine-filled funness. We ate and drank and swam in the pool and hot-tubbed on the roof and then we decided it was time to head out and find some more food. We walked around, probably a bit too tipsy and loud, and ducked into a pub for a pint and some greasy fare.
It was great to see Karen again and to meet Phil -- I wish they could live here on the island. Wah. We finished the night with some good wine and potato chips and I caught a cab back to my inn at some ungodly hour. The other b&b guests probably hate me, but they're just jealous that my life is so rockin'.

Wednesday -- Day 5

I slept in (of course!) and read my book in my room most of the day. I was tired and it was hot. I ended up going down to the AGO at 6:30 but not much was open, and my disposable camera refused to take pictures without flash so I've really nothing significant to share. I did get to ride in the biggest elevator ever, but the pic hardly does it justice. It was probably the size of our old apartment. And that little flash is me -- hi! I saw some nice Henry Moore maquettes though.

I was a subway pro by this time so I had no trouble finding the Duke and meeting up with the the TO Hitched gals for more beer, gossip, nachos and cigarettes. Whee!

The best thing about Toronto was definitely all the visiting I got to do. It was great to meet all the bitches and drink, eat, gab, make too much noise and generally be silly.

That's pretty much it! Thursday I had an early breakfast and took the TTC to the airport.
Good-bye, big smoke -- I will forever insist that your smog is fog. Sigh.

The Big Smoke

2006-06-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

I was in Toronto last week. I left early Saturday morning and returned late Thursday evening. I am still exhausted, and still missing photos from the trip, so what follows is about 1/2 of my trip day-by-day and illustrated.

Saturday -- Day 1:
The husband drove me to the airport for 6:30 am. I was surprisingly awake as I only allowed myself 4 hours of sleep the night before. Solid REM sleep is overrated. After a turbulent-filled flight and a landing that made me understand why barf bags exist, I managed to get on the downtown shuttle (which is a rip-off, but public transit info is nowhere at Pearson), meet an English gal travelling solo, and walk to my B&B without getting lost. First impression of Toronto: it's big and hot, but not scary.

I was checked in by 5:30ish and had a rest in my pink and floral room (gah) before evening festivites began. I walked to the Annex area and didn't get lost. Toronto is surprisingly easy to navigate on foot. I really can't do justice to how incredibly stupidly fun Saturday was -- Foxy narrates it best on her blog: Doctor T Comes to Town a la Foxy.

(I have no photos as my camera died the moment I tried to turn it on in my room. Toronto kills cameras, as I would soon learn.)

Sunday -- Day 2

I didn't make it to breakfast on Sunday morning.

After a good sleep, and a lot of water, I phoned up my friend Karen at her hotel and made plans to meet up in their lobby at 6:30. I walked downtown as I had to stop at the mall to figure out what was wrong with my camera. (I tried an independent camera store because that's the Victoria gal in me, always wanting to shop at the little guy -- but they were utterly useless, unfortunately. So many thanks to the Sony guys in the Eaton Centre for the camera battery -- apparently they do die after about 2.5 years -- the lithium batteries, not the Sony guys.) I also bought toothpaste because not-so-sneaky cigarettes the night before made me realize that forgetting your toothpaste in BC really is gross.

Along the way, I had some time to kill (Toronto is really easy to navigate on foot) so I popped into an air-conditioned glassy building, BCE Place.

There was a big model display of Toronto-in-progress down the middle of the aisle and a turn-of-the-century stone building facade recreated inside the modern glassiness. Very cool. It was like an updated Parisian arcade -- the sense of movement was amazing. Further down there was a glass installation outside of a restaurant that seemed to have no entrance. That's a sign the restaurant is probably out of grad student price range. Har.

I met up with Karen and Phil on time and we made OUR (you have a sick, sick mind, Weldon) way to the distillerary district, which is very cool -- but they thought we were poor and so a certain oyster bar didn't treat us very well. Piss on them, I say. But I did manage to snag a great pic of a pillar -- Toronto is just full of phallic imagery! After dinner we did a couple bars (I don't think the waitress at Hemingway's was happy to see me again) and some deep-fried appies before calling it a night at about 2am. Do you see a pattern in terms of my visit to Toronto?

More to come....

Slight Change in Plans

2006-05-15T15:24:00.000-07:00

Ahem.

I've decided to NOT go for a walk/jog and instead write until Mike comes home. Physical laziness is excusable -- I need to take advantage of writing power when I can, damnit.

I told you this blog would keep me accountable.

A New Week Calls For a New Work Plan

2006-05-15T12:15:00.000-07:00

Accountability is important, right? Here's my plan for today:

start laundry as soon as I'm done wasting time on the computer
write Dracula paper from 1pm-4pm. Remember to take reasonable breaks for food, air, etc.
after writing, clean up the house a bit
read some Trollope (I'm loving Phin Finn right now -- le sigh)
eat something and go for a walk/jog
make myself a decent solo dinner after the walk/jog
read more Trollope

Last night we had dinner with some friends who just bought a house right around the corner from us. Being able to afford a house is such a far-off dream for us right now and it's kinda hard to see your friends do it. Why didn't I go to med school again?

Oh right, because the PhD is just so rewarding. [/end sarcasm]

Found It!

2006-05-10T13:54:00.000-07:00

Well, some of it anway -- motivation, that is. I wrote for a few hours yesterday and made some progress.

This afternoon, however, is all about Dickens. MUST FINISH THE DICKENS.

Missing Motivation

2006-05-09T12:09:00.000-07:00

I have no motivation to work. When I sit down to write I feel sick to my stomach and convinced that everything I put down will be worthless.

Yesterday, at the gym, I saw a poster advertising personal training certification classes and I kept thinking about how fun it would be to do something like that -- something physical, something totally different.

Academic self-doubt is totally normal -- so normal, in fact, that the imposter syndrome in universities is discussed regularly in pretty much every academic publication. Normally, I can write my way through the doubt. I don't actually defeat the doubt, but once there are enough words on the page it just moves to the back of my mind and I get the paper done. Right now I can barely write in my blog or journal. It's like that part of my brain is paralyzed.

But I cannot take a day off from writing today. I am going to force myself to write. I will park my ass at my desk, make some tea, turn on CBC2 and write for 4 hours. Even if I just copy quotes, I must write something or this road block will turn into a total detour and I'll end up signing up for a fitness training class.

My Ankles Hurt...

2006-05-04T17:23:00.000-07:00

...and it's not because I'm a round-heeled woman.

I'm going off an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety drug I've been on for 3 odd years because the stupid stuff made my blood pressure shoot up. The withdrawal is ugly. I've been fairly lucky as I haven't had too many body side effects but I've had a whack of emotional/mental ones (and Mike, a whack of side effects is at least 5 and up to 7). The first week I swore I was either developing asthma, having a heart attack or suffering from pneumonia. The tension in my chest and back was brutal. I also had ugly acid reflux. I hate burping, so that was a particularly icky side effect. Now I'm all emotional. I cried because of a financial mistake this morning, and I actually threw stuff around in the bathroom. Then I yelled at my cat because she peed in a chair. She only pees in a chair when the litter box isn't to her liking. I had a mild panic attack while cleaning out the litter bins. Even the English secretary noticed how off I was today. Bleargh-o-rama.

So my ankles hurt because the only thing that has kept me relatively sane over the past 10 days has been walking. I have walked a stupid number of kilometres. I walk everywhere. I'll walk instead of taking the bus, and I'll walk to get stuff even if I don't really need stuff. I walk around the house, the yard, the neighborhood, downtown, uptown, pretty much anywhere it's legal to walk. Weirdly enough, my hips don't hurt, me leg muscles don't hurt, my oft-sore toe doesn't hurt, and even though I've been carrying bags and purses in a most awkward fashion my back, shoulders and arms don't hurt. The sunburn I got while walking doesn't hurt. My ankles hurt. My brain hurts a bit too, but today it's all about the ankles.

This post is for you, Mike, and your ankle fascination.

2006-04-27T11:09:00.001-07:00

This has been making the blog rounds lately so I figured I'd give it a go. Oh, the ways I procrastinate....

Accent: Still hanging on to a bit of that Calgary twang.

Booze: Dry white wine.

Chore I Hate: Anything bathroom related.

Dog or Cat: Cats, for now.

Essential Electronics: Computer, my iPod Shuffle and the dishwasher.

Favorite Cologne: Anything orange.

Gold or Silver: White gold.

Hometown: Grew up in Calgary.

Insomnia: Sometimes.

Job Title: PhD student, not-so-bohemian bum.

Kids: Not yet.

Living arrangements: Me; the husband; Tess, the devil cat; Hilde, the owly-bulldog cat.

Most admirable traits: Perseverance, loyalty, playfulness.

Number of sexual partners: Right now, just the husband!

Overnight hospital stays: Does waiting all night in the ER count?

Phobias: Moths; any bug that jumps.

Quote: "Everyone looks retarded once you set your mind to it."--David Sedaris; "Most people do not really want freedom, because freedom involves responsibility, and most people are frightened of responsibility." --Sigmund Freud; "Work is the Curse of the Drinking Classes." --Oscar Wilde

Religion: Recovering Catholic.

Siblings: One older sister.

Time I wake up: erm, when I have to pee?

Unusual talent or skill: I can put my leg behind my head.

Vegetable I love: Broccoli. Good ol' broc.

Worst habit: Nail biting; worrying in general.

X-rays: Left ankle (twice), right ankle, both hips, both knees, teeth (multiple times), neck.

Yummy foods I make: Fried chicken; chicken paprikash; shrimp linguini alfredo; fresh bread.

Zodiac sign: Leo.

Der Aktualisierung

2006-04-26T06:45:00.000-07:00

After weeks of asking, the husband finally found out he didn't get into uni-of-choice for his PhD. Yesterday he recieved an email saying he would know by the end of the week. Of course, he had just finished sending a rather stern email that basically said "fuck the ego protection -- I want to know if I'm being dumped." The Dear John arrived soon after. Clearly the results were available, so why not just send them? Dumbasses. However, it's nice to know where you won't be living in 4 months time.

I am still trying to write conference papers. I am still plugging away at my exam reading list. I am currently being weaned off an anti-anxiety medication that was raising my blood pressure (and thus upping my anxiety) and fighting off intense hypochondriac impulses (am I having a heart attack? Nope, just need to burp). I am enjoying the spring weather and looking forward to the weekend. I would love to have a pint on a patio -- any takers?

Waiting...and Waiting...and some more (wait for it!) Waiting....

2006-04-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

I always see stats about how many hours of one's life are spent sleeping, eating, walking, etc. But how much is spent waiting? If you're an academic (or a prospective academic), I'd wager that about 30% of your life is spent waiting. For instance, I recieved an email reply 6 weeks after I'd sent the original question, and organizing any sort of committee takes a minimum of a month, even if everyone is available, ready and willing. I'm fortunately in that my supervisor is always on the ball -- the longest I've ever had to wait for any reply is a weekend -- but it just makes everyone else seem slow and/or totally clueless.

Right now I really have nothing personal I'm waiting for, but the hubster is still waiting to hear from his PhD-uni-of-choice, and noone at said uni seems to think this is a big deal. The secretary and grad chair readily admit to not having results yet, and while I understand that everyone is busy at this time of year (although I'd be hard-pressed to name a time of year, besides June and July, when academics aren't busy), it's the middle of fucking APRIL! Even PhD-uni-of-second-choice hasn't sent out an official letter. The hubster only knows that he didn't get in because he emailed the grad secretary for an update.

Patience is apparently a virtue, but what's so great about it anyway? I'm sure in the grand scheme of things, patience is right up there with not throwing your toenail clippings at other people. I never claimed to be a virtuous person anyway.

It's Just Good Advice

2006-04-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

A couple Christmases ago I gave the hubster the "Don't be a jerk" postcard as a greeting card. He's not a jerk, but I was trying to find a really out-there card to punch through some of the schmaltz that usually invades the holidays. Plus, it's just plain good advice. I was reminded of the card a few weekends ago, when an undergrad friend of ours was visiting. She's been on leave from Jackass University and is now preparing to head back to get the damn degree over with.

I would like to send this card to JA uni. Actually, I think I'd like to send it to any prof who thinks being a jerk is okay. It's not. Aforementioned friend and I were discussing the university phenomenon of profs who think that because they're kick-ass researchers and leaders in their fields, they are under no obligation to improve their people skills. The fact that people can freely be ignorant, unappreciative, utterly inflexible and often just plain jerks in a teaching profession is astonishing -- and pretty disgusting. Undergrad friend said she noticed such jerkiness was more prevalent amongst male members of the profession, and I think that's true to some extent, depending on the institution you belong to, but I've met a few jerky female profs as well. But undergrad friend also said that men get away with it more often. They're the absent-minded professor! They're really just harmless! Women are nurturers -- they ice your bruised ego and bake you cookies. They're expected to adapt to people-centred roles and they're penalized if they're not. They're shrews and bitches. Meanwhile, absent-minded male professor is known as the cranky but brilliant prof. They must be brilliant if they're such assholes. [/sarcasm].

What I really need is a whole stack of those "Don't be a jerk" postcards. They're the perfect card for any occasion, after all -- a spiffy image and some good solid advice. What more do you need in a greeting card anyway?

Wanted: Historian

2006-03-13T18:55:00.000-08:00

This morning I finally finished my woefully overdue special topics reading list.

It's long. It's really long. It's freakishly long.

I ended up doubling the number of novels I'm reading and I'm actually reading poetry too. Honestly, the best part of constructing the list was looking at the fiction -- I found some kick-ass novels and shorter works that I can't wait to read. I posted a query on the Victoria list and the feedback was wonderful. Expanding the non-fiction section was more of a challenge -- the "usual suspects" (Carlyle, Arnold, Burke, Paine) only go so far, so I ended up doing a lot of speed-scanning of works online to see if they were appropriate, and I'd never before realized the beauty and genuis of subject headings in library catalogues -- such a time saver.

Secondary sources were trimmed and then expanded. Much of my old research centred around sociology, but I'm more interested in historical-literary aspects so I ended up scanning a whole whack of new works and cross-checking far too many books and articles. I felt most retarded in this area: how do you compile worthy historical sources when you're not a historian? The answer: lots of scanning of book reviews, current journals, reference databases and journals. In other words, lots of work that would be much nicer if one was able to hire a historian as a researcher. Alas, such indulgences are not yet financially feasible (although I heartily welcome any volunteer historian or librarian assistance).

In the end, I'm pretty happy with it -- the scope has widened considerably, but I think it's the dissertation list. From this point onward, anything I add will be complimentary rather than constituent. That's a good feeling, especially when the damned list took so long to put together.

In other news, the hubster's recent automobile collision situation has been resolved. Our car was a total write-off, so we received a lovely cheque from the insurance company (for more than I predicted we would get) and today we found a new car after just one phone call. It was also very sunny and lovely today, so things are generally looking up.

Gar, grr, argh, haaaaaaaaaaar

2006-02-27T15:15:00.000-08:00

That's pretty much how I'm feeling today.

There's no point in going over WHY I failed my workplan so miserably last week. I'll just chalk it up to exhaustion and forget about it. The reading list is nearly complete, but the Dracula paper remains phantasmagorical. Today I've yet to do a single productive thing, unless you count paying bills online. The hubster was in a car accident this morning on the way to work so the car may be a write-off. It's grey and cold out. Green Shield health care sucks ass, I slept like ass last night and my morning bagel was hard and cold.

On the bright side of things, I received my copy of The Fiddlehead 226 late last week. Four of my Picchu poems were published so I'm now officially a poet.

New Exam, New Work Plan

2006-02-21T15:53:00.000-08:00

Now that the major field exam is over, I have to prepare for my final candidacy exam -- my special topics exam. My special topic is (tentatively) 19th-century riots and public protest in literature, but that title and the scope is sure to change once I actually get off my ass and revise my reading list. I have a working bibliography but some of the readings are too sociological and I don't have enough fiction or prose on the list -- it's mostly theory and criticism. I was searching the VICTORIA listserv for anything on mobs but keyword searches on listservs only go so far. My goal is the have the list done by Friday so I can relax over the weekend before the new grind begins in full. I also have to contact my committee members and ask if I can write my exam on June 15th instead of May 15th because I have two conference papers to write by May 1st and, realistically, they won't get written if I'm knee-deep in exam prep.

I still haven't heard a peep about the schedule for INCS in July or ACCUTE in May. I think those will be the only two conference I'll be presenting at before the fall. Conference travel is expensive and this summer is promising to be particularly crazy. I would really like to have a draft of my introduction ready to go by the end of August but that really depends on where we're living, when we move and whether or not my brain has exploded.

Daily goals for this week:

2 hours work per day on reading list
1 hour per day preparing Dracula paper
Exercise and/or meditation daily

I'll post an update in a couple days.

Exam Results Are In....

2006-02-17T16:24:00.000-08:00

I passed! My supervisor let me know this afternoon. I won't have the comments for a while, but who cares? If I didn't fail, and I didn't get distinction, I don't want to know the comments until after I've spend at least a weekend celebrating. Comments are inevitably full of criticism and with all the anxiety I felt over this exam I need some nerve-free relaxation time.

One more flaming hoop cleared on the path towards academic fame and fortune (ha!)

More Exam Anxiety

2006-02-13T19:49:00.000-08:00

I am feeling really, ridiculously anxious about my exam on Wednesday.

The hubster has told me repeatedly that I know this area inside-out, backwards-forwards, upside-down and right-side up, and that I could have written it five years ago and kicked ass. So why the anxiety? Why this feeling that no matter what I do, the outcome will be shit?

I think it's partially because I thought I did really well on my last exam but the markers seemed to think otherwise. I also think it's classic exam anxiety over how unfair a huge cumulative exam seems. I know more about Victorian lit and culture than anyone I know, except my supervisor, but if I just have a bad day, or crack during the writing, or get confused or don't sleep well, I come out looking like shit.

Maybe it's to my advantage that I have this nasty infected left hand. Maybe if I go into the exam with a sling (which I have to anyway, as I can't keep my hand below my heart or it throbs horribly) they'll pity me and be sympathetic if I write a pile of shit.

Oh for the days when I could spit on paper, throw a comb over it and get an A-. Doctoral studies are harder, if only because my own expectations of my performance have changed.

Pre-exam bitch session!

2006-02-12T19:02:00.000-08:00

My cat bit my hand last night. I moved her while she was asleep and she flipped out a bit and sunk a tooth into me. It was a just a little puncture wound, so I did my best to clean it out and bandage it up, but within an hour it was swelling up and going pink and my hand stiffened up. It was 2am. I had no car as Mike took it to the ferry. I had been reading queer theory articles and the Trials of Oscar Wilde all day and had yet to change out of my pyjamas. How sad is it that the only trip I made out of the house yesterday was to the ER at 3 in the morning? Le sigh.

Anyway, it's infected, so I'm on antibiotics and the lovely hospital staff gave me a tetanus shot as mine was out-of-date. The good news is that the bite is on my left hand so I can still write. The bad news is I didn't get home till after 6 this morning and didn't get up today till 3:30pm. I have two full days left before my major field exam, and if my sleep schedule is fubared I will a)not have much energy to do a good review/read session, and b)will likely get a shitty sleep the night before the exam.

Bleargh. I could really use a pint right now.

On Friends and all that

2006-02-09T13:19:00.000-08:00

Seeing the recent posts of Foxy and siouxcitysue on the joys of friends made me all nostalgic for the days when K.K. and I used to hang out and drink wine into the wee hours and make asses of ourselves. I just got off the phone with K.K., who is now far, far away in the East. In honour of our very silly friendship, here is a picture to remind everyone what grad school is really about.

Exam = Illness

2006-02-08T14:48:00.000-08:00

Apparently my body doesn't like candidacy exams. My major field exam is in a week and yesterday I was hit with a cold. It's worse today but I'm hoping that enough drugs and rest will keep it from progressing into something nastier.

I feel like I'm 5 again. When I was a kid I would always get super excited about any upcoming holiday, birthday, event -- any excuse for an event -- and I'd work myself into illness. Many a Christmas day found doctor T lying on a couch at whereever dinner was taking place, with a bucket for vomiting and Blue Bear tucked in at my side. I have no Blue Bear now, but I do have a couple of pretty cuddly cats and a nice big bowl in case of pukage. It's good to know some things never change, but it's sad to think that I now get over-excited about giant doctoral exams rather than parties and holidays.

Please send healthy vibes in the general direction of the Island, and let's hope I'm healthier for my final exam in May.

Links -- What the Hell?

2006-02-01T14:15:00.000-08:00

I haven't been doing this blog thing for a long time, but I've been doing my best to make my blog thematic, pretty, and decently entertaining (for me, at least). But I'm still at a loss as to linkage -- I mean, what the hell am I supposed to link to? Lately I've expanded my linkage to include some Victorian lit&culture links, primarily for my own ease but also so anyone interested in what I do can have a looksy. I've got a big 'ol list of Bloggin Bitches from my internet-hangout, but I must admit I'm tempted to trim them as some of the bitches aren't keeping the blogs up-to-date. The buddies category is made up of people I know in real life or otherwise whose blogs I read. The newest category is Bloggin in the Academy, as I wanted to keep university (and specifically humanities) blogs in a special place. But I don't read a lot of blogs, so the category looks pretty sad. But what's the point in linking to a whole bunch of blogs that I found on the blogs I read? That's like stealing linkage, and it seems fraudulent to me. I think I've got some bizarre ideal about organic linking and honest blog reading. I'm slowly trying to expand my blog world, but what I really want to read about -- other English academics slogging through the ivory tower life -- is hard to come across organically on the net. If anything can be organic on the net, it sure as hell isn't humanities scholars, as we're predominantly a technically-retarded bunch.

I think I'm putting a bit too much thought into this linkage thing. Hell, I think I'm putting a bit too much thought into my blog lately and not enough into the Rossettis and the Victoria prose genre. And hell, I say hell too much.

Jackass University

2006-01-27T13:38:00.000-08:00

In my 25 years, I've learned a lot of things. A few of those things have been useful; most have not. For example, I've learned that every house needs a pencil sharpener (although we are still lacking one), poppyseeds get stuck in a certain spot in my teeth, and you shouldn't go looking for support from Jackass University.

Jackass University is not my current school, which I prefer to call Granola University. Granola University has a less-than-stellar graduate social group due in large part to a very wide demographic spread and very broke students, but my department is so supportive and lovely and cozy that you can't help but love it. Jackass University is the previous academic home of myself and the Hubster, and while the student life is great, the department has a large population of selfish jackasses -- hence the name. I should say that I have had better luck that hubster in dealings with the department, but not entirely. I burned a few bridges while I was there, but I now think that's normal and even preferable to coasting through your program as Smiley McNeutral. But I'm getting sidetracked. Here are some examples of the jackassery:

-I emailed a prof I had taken a cross-listed graduate course with (prof was not a member of my home department) to say hello and thank her for her comments on a paper I had written for her. I had recently presented the paper at a conference and recieved excellent feedback. (Incidentally, I had received only a so-so grade on the paper initially -- clearly ideas and execution at conferences matter more than grades!). I received a reply that was at best indicative of a forgetful prof and at worst was quite curt. I think it was one line, and I'm pretty sure she had no clue who I was or where I had come from. It was her first grad class, and I was one of the most vocal students in the class. My guess is that she just didn't really care, but it was a bit weird as I'm used to nicer communications with past profs.

-Professor Smartuscamelopardalis was very nice to me after I left and wrote me a stellar recommendation letter for my next program and a couple large grants. I did not have an A+ in Smartuscamelopardalis' class but did well enough and was apparently in the top 5-10% of the class. Hubster asked for a letter the next year and Smartuscamelopardalis agreed, then started to pull back at the last minute, which any student will realize is not a very nice thing to do as letters are a pain in the ass to arrange. Eventually Smartuscamelopardalis delivered a letter which ranked hubster in bottom 50% of class despite his mark being 1 percentage point below mine and in the same grade range. Most assoholic.

-Professor Pitbull just plain hated me, but loved the hubster. Unfortunately, Pitbulls don't easily reply to emails and hubster bore the brunt of it. More likely, hubster bore the brunt of my burnt bridge. I guess that's professionalism in the pitbull world.

-And lastly, if you give someone a solid A+ in a class, why would you not write a letter for them? Are you really that scared that your record will be judged by one letter for a student whose field of interest isn't the same as your own? Or are you really just that uncaring for past students?

Jackass University continues to perpetuate their jackassery in new and exciting ways year after year. Just recently a good friend of mine left the university due to stress. She was/is a top notch student, but stress is often compounded by an unsupportive department, and being unsupportive is, after all, what jackasses do best.

Thank god for granola.

End Cancer

2006-01-21T20:44:00.000-08:00

One of my Hitched friends is participating in the 2006 Weekend to End Breast Cancer walk in Vancouver. All the proceeds go to the BC Cancer Foundation. Jennifer's mom is a two-time cancer survivor, and Jennifer, being the always-generous and wonderful gal she is, is walking for her and for other friends who are fighting cancer. Every little bit counts, so if you can afford to make a donation please do -- or if you're in town, join in the walk if you can.

You can make a donation at Jennifer's page: 2006 Weekend to End Breast Cancer

Migraines + Studying = bleargh

2006-01-18T20:48:00.000-08:00

Today was a good reading day until I sat down to do my evening round after the hubster went to class. My neck was achy, my eyes were hurtin', I felt sick in the tum -- ugh, a migraine was coming on. I caught it early enough that a couple Aspirin and some coffee would have helped, but all I had was Tylenol and my tum was not up for coffee, especially the thought of leftover microwave-reheated coffee or instant crap. So I downed a bunch of water instead -- a poor substitute, but gentler on the stomach. I decided to try my non-drug solution of wrapping a scarf around my temples tightly, and of course the only scarf on hand is the green and yellow giant floral polyester number I bought for my Mrs. Jefferson halloween costume 2 years ago. So on it goes. My eyes were also starting to get a bit sore from reading so I grab my old glasses to help make the print bigger on my article. Then I catch a glance of myself in the mirror. Yikes. I looked like a stoned 60s philosophy prof. I also have a lovely cold sore which is now drying out so I look like a stoned 60s philosophy prof who took the free love vibe a bit too far and ended up catching herpes from whatever grad student they were doing at the time. Not a good look for me. So the "bleargh" above doesn't actually refer to my studying -- the scarf trick worked pretty well and I finished my article. It actually refers to what I looked like. That was some scary shit. I can only hope it wasn't some kind of freaky omen of what the future holds.

In other news, I accidentally recieved a full copy of my upcoming candidacy exam today. Luckily honest Doctor T did her duty (hee! I can't even write duty without laughing) and let the supervisor know right away. Really, it sucks more for the committee than for me. I just get a sneak peek -- they have to write a whole new exam. That's why Track Changes in Word should NEVER be on in the background!

Doctor T Goes Global

2006-01-08T14:53:00.001-08:00

I found out yesterday that I've been accepted to the Interdisciplinary Nineteenth-Century Studies 2006 International Conference. It's at Durham University, which is pretty much east of middle-of-nowhere in England but also happens to be about an hour away from my sister and brother-in-law in Leeds. I didn't think I'd be able to go, but my most wonderful parents are keen that I attend so will help me out with the ticket. The only catch is I have to be back by the 8th for a wedding so I think I'll be going early to chill with the sissy and then hit the conference.

Now to actually write the paper!

Smithing the Poop

2006-01-03T16:29:00.000-08:00

Let me introduce you to the Poopsmith. He is one of the residents of Strongbadia, but he is also the unofficial mascot of English graduate studies, and English in the academy in general -- at least for Mike and me (Really, this post should belong to wargoon, but Mike is a lazy blogger so I have dibs).

A lot of what we do amounts to poopsmithing. Every once in a while we have a great idea and somehow have the time, energy and money to explore it, but most of the time we sift through a lot of crap we're not interested so we can write a paper we aren't interested in for someone who isn't interested in it. Face it: grad profs are just as selfish as grad students -- their classes are meant to promote their own research projects and they're looking for cheap labour. Or they don't actually need any more research but want students to kiss ass and validate their work. I don't know why I would expect anything more from them, but I do -- maybe because my own supervisor is a more involved, interesting teacher and I think there should be more teachers like that at the graduate level.

But back to the poop. Poopsmithing, for me, involves reading various articles and books that are tangentially connected to my own idea but really aren't going to contribute to my thesis or the framework of my project in general. Why do it then? Because it's expected that we will show that we've waded through all the crap and emerged victorious, poopsmithing implement in hand, above the putrid piles of academic writing that will then cling to our brains like horrible little butt crumbs. I'm not saying that all journals are useless piles of hangover-black turds on porcelain white printing paper. There are important articles and books out there for almost every essay I write, but I hate the expectation that my tiny little 20 page article (15 without those stupid double-spaced blockquotes the MLA decided are the new standard) is actually going to address or even need more than 3 reference citations. Maybe I'm a bit old-school in my attention to the actual text, or maybe I like to talk about bigger ideas and thus my background reading tends toward larger trends rather than specific smaller articles. Or maybe I'm just lazy. But if laziness lets me get away with a little less poopsmithing on every third essay I really don't care about, is that really such a bad thing?

Anger is Yucky

2005-12-14T15:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I found out that despite my optimism my SSHRC application was not forwarded by the uni. For the third.fucking.time. I was beyond angry -- I was a crying, throwing-things-around, shaking mess. I just don't understand what else I'm supposed to do. I have a perfect CV and strong references and I improve every year. I'm not sure what is going on behind the scenes, but somebody up there doesn't like my project at all.

I hate feeling so much anger, in part because it leads to poisonous jealousy of people who DO have SSHRCs (and people at other unis who get forwarded with far less on their CVs to boot). Sometimes I feel like my academic career will always be this way -- a couple people really believe in me, others write me off as kooky, and some people really dislike my work and try to crush it. And that makes me sad.

But I do have some good academic news: the proposal I was bitching about writing last month has been accepted for the giant ACCUTE/Canadian Federation for the Humanities and Social Sciences Congress at the end of May. I get to fly out to the big city of Toronto for it, and I get travel funding. Yay me! So shove that up your ass, stupid SSHRC vetters.

Shit Days

2005-12-05T20:12:00.000-08:00

Today was one of those inexplicably shit days. I felt uncomfortable, cranky and generally unsatisfied. I slept in after a weird interrupted sleep last night and when I got up I intended to do some housework but I couldn't bring myself to do anything besides unload, reload, unload and reload the dishwasher. Mike and I went to do some grocery shopping and we encountered many inconsiderate, ass-faced folks while parking and shopping. One woman took our cart as we were about to put carrots and pears into it -- what the fuck, was she blind or just stupid? Some days I just want to punch the world in the face.

I ended up heading to the gym in the early evening, and that was good. I sweated out a lot of my anger, although I was rather bitchy to the crazy guy who wanted to steal my bench. Seriously, buddy, you picked the wrong day to think a woman doesn't have a right to use the weight benches. You're lucky I was already through two circuits and had worked out some frustration, because otherwise you would have marks on your face that look suspiciously like the imprints on the 15 lb barbells I was using.

A Whole New Kind of Hell!

2005-11-30T09:49:00.000-08:00

I had to decide today (well, actually yesterday, but I forgot) when my next candidacy exam would be and whether I'd do the take-home (again) or the on-campus. I chose the on-campus. Why would I do that, when the only experience I have is with the take-home exam? I have a few good reasons: A)I am more comfortable writing about Victorian literature as it's home turf; B)3 hours of hell is less ulcer-inducing than 3 days of hell; C)I thought my last exam went really well, but my examiners did not. And I'm afraid the same thing will happen if I do the take-home for my major field exam.

Yes, C is the major reason, but what would you do? I was pretty pissed off after the last exam, but maybe with different expectations I will perform better -- fuck that, I will be graded better if I do the on-campus exam. The major downside is that the exam will be a whole new kind of hell, one I've never fully experienced before. One that will involve much less anxiety during the actual writing (I won't have time to be anxious in a measly four-hour time slot) but perhaps much more afterwards, when the markers may decide that I didn't write off the top of my head but more out of the ass region. Good news is I get to use the department's Apple Powerbook to write, so I will be able to email myself a copy of my answers and reread them obsessively while I wait for my mark. If one considers that a good thing, of course.

Nothing to do with School but...

2005-11-23T18:48:00.000-08:00

My friend Michelle of The Bun is in Your Mind posted this on her blog so I figured why the hell not?

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and I. It can be anything you want - good or bad. When you're finished, if you so choose, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people remember about you!

So go to it folks.

Possibly a Good Omen

2005-11-21T14:38:00.000-08:00

I just got this email from a scholarships clerk at the uni:

In going over your SSHRC Doctoral application, I notice that you have not included a Bibliography and Citations page as required. Could you please prepare this and send it to me by Wednesday of this week.

Thank you in advance.

I have never included a bibliography and citations page before -- it's something you do when you're in the more advanced stages of your project. Hell, I'm at the beginning of my second year -- I'm not even writing the prospectus yet. But this might be a good sign. The last two times I submitted a SSHRC application it didn't make it through the uni and it seems that this time IT ACTUALLY WILL. Which is effing amazing. I may actually get a SSHRC this year!

English Majors Get No Respect

2005-11-18T22:50:00.000-08:00

From Toothpaste for Dinner

Although I can't speak for all the English Majors out there, I can honestly say that I found grad school far more alcohol driven than the undergrad years. I think this is because when you decide you want to attend grad school, and in English you tend to figure it out fairly early, you almost always have to commit to an Honours undergraduate program. That's a lot of work, but one is usually still filled with a naive enthusiasm for English and the importance of the humanities to society. It doesn't take long for this feeling to fall away once grad school begins, in part because you see so many social science, science, business law and medical students getting way better funding and being written up in alumni mags and campus newspapers. They make the money, after all, and even some social sciences are borderline in that respect. One will also inevitably butt heads with one or more idiotic, self-important, pompous profs in the first semester of coursework, after which one will come close to complete nervous breakdown, post nasty comments about them on ratemyprofessors.com and begin to question the purpose of getting this stupid effing degree in the first place if one's colleaugues will potentially be just as assoholic. Hence pub nights, potluck nights, mixers -- whatever -- and 3 am pizza on the streets of Kingston in February when it's -30 and noone wants to go home yet. Aww -- sing it with me, Archie Bunker: "Those were the days."

Oh, and yeah, one eventually does get over the MA negativity. Or you just forget it and decide you're ready to commit yourself to 5 more years of grad school because it'll be different during the PhD. Yeah. Or not so much.

Happy Birthday Mike!

2005-11-17T08:50:00.000-08:00

Today is Mike's (aka "the hubster") birthday. I won't tell you how old he is, but I will say he's over 28 but not yet 30. Ha. I have yet to buy him a present but I'm pretty sure I know what I'm getting him as at least part of his gift. Hint: it's made of paper. And we're English geeks. Enough guessing? Yep, it's a book. Wildly original, I know, but I actually have put some thought into the choice of book. It's not like I just randomly found it on a bookshelf in the UVic bookstore and thought "hey! Mike would like this" and then forgot to buy it for about 3 months or anything. Not at all.

It's also my gramma's 91st birthday today. As she says, any day above ground is a good day, and I think that's a pretty good philosophy to have.

I'm supposed to make a fancy dinner for Mike tonight but he has not told me what he wants to have. I'm betting it will have something to do with chicken, though, and perhaps pasta. It'll probably be a weight-loss disaster recipe, but you only turn over-28-but-under-30 once, right?

What I Should be Doing...

2005-11-16T13:33:00.000-08:00

...is writing another effing conference proposal, which I was supposed to have done yesterday and, of course, procrastinated my way through instead. Aargh.

It's not that I don't have an idea -- I do, and it's a decent, interesting idea that totally fits into the proposed panel. And I've got an excellent chance of getting accepted. The problem is that much of proposal writing involves arbitrary nodding of the head to what other people have written on the topic, or what they have written on topics tangientially related to the topic, or not related at all but I have to mention just so people know I've read them. It's a bloody annoying hoop to jump through, and it's a huge part of why I love my dissertation research, which is almost entirely unresearched. My reasons for disliking graduate courseowork were hugely related to the silly nodding procedure that profs expected, especially in courses on subjects I did not intend to teach or research in the future. In three months, do they really expect you to become an expert in a field you really couldn't give a damn about? Well, some profs do -- and they are usually very boring, pedantic, self-important folks with no respect for fields they aren't an expert in because that would mean they can't lord their self-importance and impressive knowledge of a subject area over your head as an intimidation tactic.

Perhaps I should see what happens if I just write the proposal I have in my head and submit it as is. The worst that can happen is a rejection, after all, and I'm barely affected by them now. Oh what a couple years in academia will do for your emotional armour.

Life is Calm

2005-11-12T18:16:00.000-08:00

Lately life has been pretty calm. I'm reading for my next candidacy exam and have no immediate conferences or talks in sight. Mike is still working PT at Hansard and going to classes, and our sleep/work patterns are fairly normal. So yeah, not much happening. Pretty soon Mike will be busy applying for grad schools across Canada, and I will be busy getting conference proposals together in preparation for the busy spring conference season, but until then I'm enjoying the downtime.

They Aligned After All

2005-11-04T19:05:00.000-08:00

In case anyone is wondering, the "plantets" (ha!) did align and I passed my first doctoral candidacy exam, so I'm 1/6th closer to being able to put "PhD ABD" beside my name. The breakdown, in my head, goes like this:
Year of coursework = 1 part
Secondary field candidacy exam = 1 part
Primary field candidacy exam = 1 part
Special topic candidacy exam = 1 part
Special topic oral exam = 1 part
Dissertation prospectus = 1 part
So 6 parts total to reach ABD (all but dissertation) status. Then the joy (really!) of writing begins.

I have this weekend off, although not really -- I have no conference to attend, no grants to write and no immediate exams to prepare for. Mike and I are going to read, hang out with the girls, sleep in and enjoy some of our newly bottled wine.

The Waiting Game

2005-11-01T19:21:00.000-08:00

If all the plantets are aligned towards normality (no, that doesn't actually make sense, but whatever), I should have the results of my first candidacy exam tomorrow. I'm nervous, although I wasn't when I wrote it. Once something is out of my hands I tend to second-guess myself -- a bad habit but hard to ditch. I ask that everyone send good thoughts in my direction.

News? We don't need no stinkin' news!

2005-10-31T22:33:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've updated, but it's not my fault. Really. If you don't believe me (or even if you do -- I don't care, really), here is a brief chronology of the last week.

Mon. Oct. 24: Scheduled to pick up take-home candidacy exam at 9am. Actually pick up exam at 10am. Spend a lot of time reading and mulling over questions, and decide to do poetry question first. Make notes. Mull some more. Have a nap. Mull more. Waste time on the internet. Talk to mom; figure out I'm wasting time. Talk to Mike at work, who says "why don't you write your introductory paragraph before I get home." End up writing half of essay. Yay.

Tues. Oct. 25: Sleep in. Get up, putter, cruise the net, then get to work. Finish poetry essay, although not the conclusion. Start fiction essay. I am writing on post-colonialism, James Joyce and Roddy Doyle. I am insane. Joyce is hard. But rewarding. Have several lightbulb moments and really think I've hit something good. When body of essay is done I have dinner and some wine, then hit the hay.

Wed. Oct. 26: Get up at decent time, do the daily internet news/blog/hitched surf, think about drama essay, then drive Mike to work. Think about drama essay, and finish fiction essay. Whoo! Start drama mulling -- go over 7 plays and take notes. Go to meeting; come home and go over notes. Round down to three plays. Read Richard Eyre to help with essay. Actual writing of essay commences at around 7pm, and I finish 7 minutes before 9pm. It rolls off the pen -- amazing! Begin transcription of handwritten essays -- drama first, then fiction, which I half finish before picking up Mike (at just after 11pm). Come home, try to celebrate but am far too tired. Go to bed.

Thur. Oct. 27: Get up at 5:45 am to finish typing. Run out of printer paper. Go to school, finish printing, hand in essays. Go home. Have no clue what to do with myself but know I should sleep so do for a while. Get up, pack, go to Vancouver for VSAWC conference. Walk far too many block to actual conference, then skytrain to Scott's place. Exhaustion sets in.

The weekend was busy but fun. Friday I slept in a bit before heading to the conference, which was overall very interesting. I ran into an old friend from Kingston which was cool. The crowd was pretty quiet overall, although I'm sure it would have been different if I was older and staying at the Delta. That crowd seemed pretty social.

Saturday we had a pimp 'n ho party at Scott's place, which was a lot of fun. We played pimp 'n ho pictionary and debauchery ensued. Sunday I was brutally hungover so I slept for most of the day before we went to Will and Danuta's for an excellent spicy chicken dinner. Then we had to face the wrath of BC Ferries. They were most wrathful, as usual, and we didn't make it home until midnight. That's the island life for you.

Today I ran a whole whack of errands and had a late dinner with Mike. Tomorrow the new work schedule -- preparing for the major field (Victorian) exam -- begins.

Ugh. Just writing that made me tired.

Candidacy Exams -- A Special Kind of Hell

2005-10-25T15:14:00.000-07:00

I'm in the middle -- temporally -- of writing my first candidacy exam. Yesterday was day 1 and I got about 1/2 of the first essay written. Today I am finishing the first, which is on poetry, and hopefully the second, which is on fiction. It's like this special, new kind of hell, because I like what I'm writing about but I'm scared of the final results. It's just another hoop to jump through, and it's not a flaming hoop, but a hoop nonetheless, and I always sucked at gymnastics. I could never make it over the bar -- I always ran under it or around it. I guess doing the take-home option rather than the in-class option was a way or running under the bar, but there is no option to go around the bar now -- I'm stuck with sliding under that bar and either making it smoothly onto that big blue mat or skidding, giving my skin a nice burn and landing on a sharp rock sticking out of the mat on the other side. Please god make it a smooth landing.

Could this be (gasp) Health?

2005-10-20T20:01:00.000-07:00

I am actually feeling pretty good today. I have bit of sinus trouble but otherwise my flu and cold seem to have exited the body. I have a wicked backache, but that is primarily because I haven't been able to go to the gym. Not working out makes my back feel like hell.

In school news, I'm 3 days away from writing my first exam (finally). I've been concentrating on reading about larger ideas of modernism and modern lit that isn't modernist, and some poetry to stave off boredom. My brain is pretty much fried right now, though. That's why this entry sucks. Ha.

I'm Getting Rather Nervous

2005-10-14T13:55:00.000-07:00

I'm delivering my first professional conference paper tomorrow up at Malaspina and I'm getting nervous. It isn't really in my area, and it's a paper from my MA year so it's been out of sight and mind for a while. Luckily it's a topic I'm interested in, and a prof from my dept. told me this conference is usually pretty friendly and supportive. He also warned me that if my paper is only tangientially connected to the others on the panel (which it is), I shouldn't be surprised if I don't get a lot of questions or feedback. Which is good -- it means that even if they think it's a horrible piece of trash I could walk away not knowing it and just thinking they didn't know much about it. Ignorance can be a lovely think for the academic ego sometimes.

But that's worst-case scenario. I'm sure it will be fine, it's only 20 minutes of my life, and it gives me an ever-so-important line on the CV -- which is, at the end of the day, what half of being an academic is about, if you're a cynic about these sorts of things.

Getting To Know You

2005-10-12T23:54:00.000-07:00

1. First Name: Doctor T
2. Were you named after anyone? No, but my middle name is from my mom.
3. Do you wish on stars? Yes, but only the first one I see at night.
4. When did you last cry? I teared up a few days ago when I was really sick and feeling particularly horrible.
5. Do you like your handwriting? No, it's very messy and inconsistent.
6. What is your favourite lunch meat? I still have a fondness for beer sausage.
7. What is your birth date? July 24, 1980.
8. What is your most embarrassing CD? The Armand Van Helden single "You Don't Know Me." But I only have it because my sister left it behind when she moved. Really.
9. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you? Yes, but not close friends.
10. Are you a daredevil? Um, no. I'm way too clumsy to be a daredevil.
11. Who is your favourite cartoon character? I really don't know -- can I just say one of the Muppet Babies and leave it at that?
12. Do looks matter? Yes, of course.
13. How do you release anger? I work out at the gym -- weights, cycling, sit-ups. And I bitch to anyone who will listen or pretend to listen -- so usually Mike.
14. Where is your second home? My parent's place in Lethbridge.
15. Do you trust others easily? No, not really.
16. What was your favourite toy as a child? Barbies!
17. What class in high school do you think was totally useless? Math or Phys Ed.
18. Do you have a journal? I have a private hand-written journal and then this little blog.
19. Do you use sarcasm a lot? I use it judiciously.
20. What are your nicknames? There's not a lot you can do with my real name, actually.
21. Would you bungee jump? No, I value my spine too much.
22. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Shamefully, no.
23. Do you think that you are strong? Physically or emotionally? Physically, I'm okay in controlled environments -- like the gym -- but my lower body is useless. Emotionally, I'm definitely getting a thicker skin as I get older.
24. What is your favourite ice cream flavour? I love them all. Chocolate is all-time stand-by.
25. Shoe Size? 9 to 9 & 1/2.
26. Red or pink? Pink, I think. Magenta, really.
27. What is your least favourite thing about yourself? My stomach.
28. Who do you miss most? Right now, my friend Karen, as she's only recently moved back to Ontario.
29. What personality traits do you dislike in other people? false humility; being a drama queen; people who can't adapt to change.
30. What colour pants and shoes are you wearing? I'm wearing an army green skirt and no shoes. I'm still not too keen on pants, but I do normally wear flip-flops around the house.
31. What are you listening to right now? South Park.
32. Last thing you ate? Marble cake.
33. If you were a color what would you be? Purple?
34. What is the weather like right now? Dark and cool.
35. Last person you talked to on the phone? Mike's mom. We are both sick so neither of us sounded like the other expected.
36. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? The nose.
37. Do you like the person who sent this to you? I stole it from Jen. She's cool.
38. Favourite Drink? Water or wine.
39. Favourite Sport? I don't know -- I like watching hockey or golf. I don't play anything.
40. Hair Color? Ashy-reddy blonde.
41. Eye Color? Green.
42. Do you wear contacts? No, I have great eyes.
43. Favourite Food? Full-on turkey dinners or fettucine alfredo.
44. Last Movie You Watched? The Man on the Train. It was very good.
45. Favourite Day of the Year? Usually it's Thanksgiving, because it's the food without the rest of the holiday stresses, but this year I was sick so it sucked it.
46. Scary Movies or Happy Endings? Happy endings, I guess. What kind of choices are those anyway?
47. Summer or Winter? Summer!
48. Hugs or Kisses? Hugs.
49. What Is Your Favourite Dessert? Anything chocolate or pastry-ish.
50. Favourite Movie? Wild Strawberries.
51. What Song Was Recently In Your Head? Back in Black by AC/DC.
52. Living Arrangements? Live with Mike, the husband, and two cats in a two-bedroom suite in lower level of a house.
53. What Book Are You Reading? The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir. It's for my upcoming exam.
54. What's On Your Mouse Pad? It's Mike's computer, so his mouse pad, and there's nothing on it. It's just a round black thing.
55. What Did You Watch Last Night on TV? America's Next Top Model, My Name is Earle, The Office (American), Law & Order: SVU. It was a big TV night for us.
56. Favourite Smells? Oranges, vanilla, my little cat Tess, Vaseline Intensive Care lotion, Estee Lauder Youth Dew perfume.
57. Favourite Flower? Gerb daisies.
58. Rolling Stones or Beatles? The Stones.
59. Do you believe in Evolution or Creation? Evolution. Creationism is weird.
60. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?A haircut and highlights.

My New Look

2005-10-12T21:23:00.000-07:00

I've changed my blog's look The template design comes from Noipo.org, but I've changed the background image to a picture of my own from our trip to Tofino last January. I think I'll regularly change the background. I like the look now. It's simpler and more me. Plus the font is purple -- very nice.

I felt much better today although I'm only functioning at about 10-20% of my normal energy level. Oddly enough, my appetite was worse today that two days ago, when my throat was incredibly sore. I think it's because when I had the sore throat I had a disgusting taste in my mouth but now my mouth is feeling a bit more normal. I've also regained functioning use of my voice, which is good news considering I have a conference paper to present. My first professional conference -- aieeeee!

Anyway, if you read this, and you like my new look, let me know. If you don't like it, then I say, in the Monty Python manner, fuck off. Ha.

Polly had a daughter who was sick, sick, sick....

2005-10-11T17:17:00.000-07:00

Ugh. I've had this bloody flu for a week now and I'm sick of it. Today I postponed my first candidacy exam because I haven't had any time to review my reading, and there is no way I'm in any shape to write 3 critical essays on 100 years of British literature. I hate that I have to delay it as I'm utterly sick of the reading list and keen on getting my first exam over with, but my arguments would suck the casbah if I tried to write any time soon. So the big day is now Oct. 24th. Bah.

In other flu-related news, I've completely lost my senses of smell and taste. I couldn't even smell the litter box yesterday, which Mike assured me was particularly nasty. I am quite happy that I could not smell the litter box, but I am quite perturbed that I have no working taste buds. In order to get some flavour into my lunch, I put both yellow mustard and blackberry jam on my chicken sandwich. It tasted like something, although I'm not sure what.

I spent a few minutes yesterday and this morning looking at my throat with the help of a flashlight and damn it's ugly. Beyond being sick, which made one side of my throat bright red and slightly pussy, throats are just ugly. Especially the uvula. It's gross, all hanging there and stuff. Blech.

More Updatey

2005-10-03T14:04:00.000-07:00

In response to Michelle's oh-so-eloquent request for more updatey, I will post about my very boring life.

Last week I lost two days of work because we were looking after Mike's nieces. They are really good kids, but you can't read T.S. Eliot while trying to entertain a 6-year-old and 3-year-old. I did my best to keep the TV off as much as possible and be an interactive auntie -- yay me -- but kids just go go go and sometimes downtime is a good thing. I did manage to read the new Avon catalogues though. They reminded me that I need bubble bath.

Mike and I had a couple good arguments last week. I think it's the second-year-of-marriage thing. We spent two late nights trying to half-assedly figure out things like kids and romance and communication and the weather was shitty the next morning as a result, I think. It seems a lot of our friends are going through the same thing right now -- thinking about careers, where to live, when to have kids, how many etc. Aaron and Emily were over for dinner last night and they are officially not trying not to have kids which reaffirmed in us the feeling that we are not ready to have kids yet but it's on the horizon. The logistics of being pregnant suck though. I really do wish a stork could deliver kids, or we could buy them at the market. Whoever invented Cabbage Patch Kids had the right idea.

We had beers with Jamie and Teresa up in Cobble Hill on Saturday night. Jamie and Mike were harassed by a drunken 45-year-old who licked their ears while hitting on Teresa and I. Those crazy country folk. We ended up crashing at Jamie's parents place instead of sobering up to drive home, which makes two Saturdays in a row where I've not bothered to come home after beer drinking. Ha. It's like I'm a Master's student again!

Now I must continue reading T.S. Eliot and drink my very English tea. Cheerio and all that.

Late-nigt Beer Drinking is Fun!

2005-09-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

After waffling over going to a school social last night for several hours, and not eating enough dinner as a result (a banana?), I finally got off my ass, put on a kicky skirt and made it out the door. Unfortunately I only had access to one-half of the food table so ate far too little (two chicken wings?) but I felt surprisingly not hungry. I had only had one drink so at the end of the night I ended up driving a couple people home and heading to Lee, Wozzle and Meaghan's place, where we sat up till nearly 4am drinking beer and talking about school, exams, sex and hair colour. Then I fell asleep on their couch and woke up at 8:30am with a dry, beerish mouth and just enough guilt about leaving my cats home alone. It was fun and I'm glad I got off my anti-social ass and talked to some profs and fellow students...especially my doctoral compadres who are in the same circle of candidacy-exam hell as I.

Now I'm craving poutine and gatorade. Good times.

Bloody Cold Sores!

2005-09-21T18:40:00.000-07:00

Ugh. I woke up yesterday and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sore in the same bloody spot I always get them -- bottom lip, lower right. I managed to get some meds on it so it didn't sprout into a full-on fever blister. My lip is only a wee bit swollen, and I think it will go away by the weekend, but it's still gross and sore. I hate these physical manifestations of stress. Damn virus.

Got a rejection note from the conference panel I sent my latest proposal to, but I'm not deterred. I'll give the thing a quick revision and send it off again. There are at least a few conferences it could fit into. I'd really like to have an excuse to put in for some travel funding. I also need to get something published, and I need the feedback. I think I'll present it at the Victorian Studies group as well if I can.

I really shouldn't be on the computer right now; I really should be reading Edith Sitwell.

Wow, now that's a makeover

2005-09-19T20:13:00.000-07:00

This pic is the lovely Ms. Salma Hayek. Wow. I love this picture for some reason. I never thought she could be such a chameleon.

Monday, Monday....

2005-09-19T09:50:00.000-07:00

Now that Mike and I are both in school life is getting back to a proper workweek-then-weekend rhythm, which also means Mondays feel like Mondays again. In some ways it's not so bad, as weekends can involve very little work and much less guilt, but it also means there are all the stupid Monday associations for Monday. Like getting up early, answering emails, actually getting things done during the day, etc. Today I got up at 7:25 am for no good reason; I just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep within a few minutes so I got up. It's nearly 10:00 am now and I'm still feeling a bit bleary-eyed but I think it's because it's grey and cool out. I like a bit of sun in my mornings. They're cheerier that way.

Good news of the week: I recieved my contract from the Fiddlehead on Friday. I've signed it and now I have to attach some biographical information and send it off to them. In a few months I'll be a published poet. And I'm actually getting paid. They are publishing four of my Picchu poems, so now I have no reason not to send more Picchu poems for publication. Besides sheer laziness, of course. If anyone cares to check out the venerable Fiddlehead site, here's the link: The Fiddlehead. Soon my name will be somewhere on that page!

Now I must put on my academic head and begin the workday.

Late Night Ramblings

2005-09-16T01:08:00.000-07:00

I sent off another conference proposal tonight, and I have a couple to work on tomorrow. The confernce proposal is such a strange genre, and it doesn't help that lately I feel as thought chunks of my vocabulary are missing. I think it's because I've been thinking so much about poetry lately and the same words keep coming up, especially anything to do with modern, modernism, modernity.... All words that mean different things. Then there's all the poetic jargon I use when annotating -- suggests, recalls, illustrates, references -- including all the specialized terms of prosody. The same words, over and over again -- they really kill the brain after a while. But I'm on the home stretch now, and the next reading list is much more familiar to me.

We are broke again, eagerly awaiting student loans, scholarships and a paycheque for Mike. Luckily we are pretty well-stocked in the kitchen, and we've paid rent, bought gas and we have enough left for cat food. When the day arrives (if it ever does) when we have a regular paycheque coming in it will be an odd feeling indeed. I'm actually getting used to living in bouts of having and having-not over not just months but years. Of course, my most recent angry breakdown wasn't even a month ago, so maybe I'm just feeling temporarily rejuvenated. Or maybe I'm delirious because it's 1am and I've been thinking about multiPopword for the last hour. Either way, some semblance of tranquility is a good thing.