If Your Lungs And Stomach Start Talking, Stand With Your Arms Akimbo Until They Stop

*This blog has lost a little bit of that Doe-eyed Charm that it used to have. Wouldn't you agree? Grad school has made me boring, cynical, and crazy. I was stressed out in college too, but it was a hell of a lot more fun than it is now. I'm adding to my resolutions: Stop Being So Dead Inside.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

*So I've been superprocrastinating on a few choice things since I got home from boston. So much so that I thought it might be worth sitting down with my bad self and trying to figure out what The Problem might be. I spent about five hours yesterday researching nontraditional phd jobs, and I feel so much better. Not to offend those of you who are pursuing more traditional careers in academe, but I just don't see what's so great about tenure. Especially with all the rumblings about schools shifting toward rolling tenure, or periodic review, etc. Plus, there are not a lot of people who have come from my program who have landed cushy academic jobs. Based on the quality of the people that we've hired, compared to the quality of our average graduating student, there is no chance that I'll be competitive when I leave here. That's not a pity party, it was one of those, "he's just not that into you"-type revelations that leaves me feeling supremely comforted instead of nervous.

Ultimately, I realized that I don't give a shit. I don't have my heart set on becoming my advisor. I would be really happy doing something with less "intellectual freedom" and a shitload more money and free time. One of my advisors is up for tenure this year. And her life is nothing i would ever want for myself. It works for her, but I'm not the right personality type for what she's doing. Her home life appears to be in shambles. She's crazy, flighty, always sick, works 18 hour days probably every day, has a toddler who never sees her, has sat on some of our projects for six months, etc. I don't want that for myself, and since that seems to be de rigeur (right, sis?) for this career, I'm thinking it's not for me.

I would rather make a decent amount of money (despite my mother's outdated assumptions, academia is not the glamorous, jet-setting profession that my father made it--such are the differences between the life of a concert pianist and a researcher, le sigh) and have enough time to enjoy my life outside of work. And now I know there are options, and I no longer feel anxious about this quarter starting (I have a class next Monday and I have to go pick up readings for it today, huff huff) or being continually evaluated or not being published or anything else. It's nice. Some huge weight has been lifted. I'm looking forward to learning for learning's sake and for the first time in a long time I feel motivated to actually THINK. It's too depressing to think that for the rest of my life, I just get more and more narrow in what I do, who I am. Every day I question whether I'm interested enough in what I'm doing. And I love the research, but I'm not totally sold on the topic. But I can't think of anything else to do instead. I would rather have breadth than depth. Because I feel like the depth would come whether I wanted it to or not.

Urgh. Yeah, so. Anybody want to go into business with me in a few years?

Hold It Down, Baby

So it turns out I cannot restrain myself from tidying up other people's messes even if I have sworn to myself I will not, in fact, tidy their messes. I had a burst of extra energy last night and, in no more than four minutes, had Jessica's sink/counter area looking almost presentable. She's coming back tonight. I am savoring the last few hours of pure, pristine relaxation. So I'm a meddling bitch. It's my damn house. I'm sorry if I ever lived with you, and continually organized your things against your wishes. It's a tic.
This is the face I made whilst I straightened Jessica's area. It's not a nice face. For those of you keeping track of the toilet paper saga, I had to buy more last night. Which means the pack I bought in November, that claimed to equivle 45 rolls of "normal" toilet paper, only lasted 5 weeks. Yeah. It burns.

I can't get my damned work done. I just can't bring myself to sit and crank it out. I can't get started. I'm relishing this time alone in the apartment. I'm relishing my last unaccounted-for break from school until next year this time. Holy god. I'm driving myself nuts but I do not want to get started. I'm trying to break a bunch of bad habits too so I'm extra nervous and fidgety, I guess. Oh and I keep drinking coffee.

I guess I should make some lists. Oh, boo, there's just so much to DOOOOOOOOO. And I don't want to do any of it. But, I THINK that there's a new GG on tonight. There better be.

God, I'm so boring. So so so so so so boring. But that'll never stop me from blogging.

Oh My God A Rubber (Rubber...Rubber)

1. Resolutions? Learn time management skills. For real this time. No more procrastinating. Like I'm doing right now.

2.News?

Boston was awesome. We did so much fun shit. I'll hold off on it until I see if Jenny ever bothers to update again. You already have a movie of boys dancing in underwear. I don't know what else I can tell you people. It was fun. Too short, fun, I love public transportation, I love Mike and Jenny, I love Boston.

My friend Kristin called me last night to say that she and Eric got engaged last week. Yay for her (she has been campaigning for this for awhile now), but I am so over being engaged. It is not unique anymore. I am considering eloping. Unfortunately, JD is not considering it. At this point, I'm just like: Hey, Fuck It. I don't care about a wedding. I don't really want to hang out with my mom for a week, or anyone else's mom. and other stuff. But just, ahh, fuck it. No one elopes anymore. It's quaint. I kind of like the idea. Would anyone come to Vegas? That's not really eloping, though, is it? If I invite you guys and half expect you to show up there? Yeah. I just don't have the necessary moxie for wedding planning these days.

Oh that reminds me, I tried on Sis's glasses whilst in Beantown and I could see better with them on than off. Which blows. I've always gloated about my fantastic vision, but grad school has finally wrenched it from me. Stupid articles in fuzzy tiny print stupid self reading them in bad light and also stupid looking at the sun when I was little all combine to make my eyes fail. Stupid. So I may need to set up an appointment with the optometrist. Also the dentist. Also the gynechiatrist.

I have a conference later this month. I'm presenting a poster. Woot. Lame.

I'm just bored. I'm frittering away the last few hours of my break and it's raining here--badd.

3. zzzzzzzzzz.