Back in Black
My God, it's been too long. I hope you all (okay, all three of you) have been doing well.
I'm a day late and a dollar short on this, but it's been stuck in my craw, so I must vent. Who the hell does Hilary Clinton think she is? She wants Obama as HER running mate on HER ticket as HER vice president? I don't know nothing about this new hard math and all these complicated delegates and all, but last count, Obama was ahead. I find it arrogant and misguided and delusional and smarmy. I find her arrogant and misguided and delusional and smarmy, too, so I guess that fits.
Anywho.
I got through my PhD comps, finally. They were great questions and I feel like I am about 134% more prepared to write my dissertation now, and that's the point. On the other hand, I hope to God I passed because I never want to have to do it again. Never. Ever. There's nothing like trying to finish writing a 25 page paper in 24 hours when your husband is sitting next to you narrating the magic special on television. Neither of us are magic fans. Why choose that moment to start to care? Oh-that's right. I didn't. Otherwise, he was awesome, as usual. But, lemme tell you how nice it was to spend the WHOLE day with him and Animal on Sunday rather than running off to hide in my stinky, sauna-like office at school to shove my face in pages and pages of articles I should have read a month ago.
I survived the conference. Not my most stellar performance, but it's done. And my advisor is still talking to me. It's all good.
I start work in less than two weeks. Oh man. I'm excited about starting, I think. I'm miserable leaving New England. However, there are a few things I won't miss about here. The windows that don't open, don't stay open, or have glass panes ready to fall out of the sash if you walk by too hard. The exterior doors with the handles that don't work. The dry heat that runs at either zero or 130 degrees. The garbage that blows into our backyard from the white trash neighbors' apartment complex. The suicide turn you have to make into our odd one-way street. The shower that lets 80% of the water go through the bottom tub faucet, all of which is the hot water. The hot water heater that subjects the first shower of the morning (mine) to about 30 seconds of warm water and then trickles off into cold. Why bother shaving my legs at all? Neighbors that won't talk to us, likely because we live in the apartment house that separates the single-family owner-occupied homes from the low-income rental properties with driveways filled with gas-leaking cars and buildings covered in asbestos siding. The lead paint filled pantry and porch. The undergrad that argued he should be formally excused from a quiz Friday because he wanted to leave for spring break early. He told us ahead of time, so that counts as excused, right?
There about 100 things I will miss about being here and our lives here. But, I have cried enough in the last five weeks. I don't need to start again.
I'm a day late and a dollar short on this, but it's been stuck in my craw, so I must vent. Who the hell does Hilary Clinton think she is? She wants Obama as HER running mate on HER ticket as HER vice president? I don't know nothing about this new hard math and all these complicated delegates and all, but last count, Obama was ahead. I find it arrogant and misguided and delusional and smarmy. I find her arrogant and misguided and delusional and smarmy, too, so I guess that fits.
Anywho.
I got through my PhD comps, finally. They were great questions and I feel like I am about 134% more prepared to write my dissertation now, and that's the point. On the other hand, I hope to God I passed because I never want to have to do it again. Never. Ever. There's nothing like trying to finish writing a 25 page paper in 24 hours when your husband is sitting next to you narrating the magic special on television. Neither of us are magic fans. Why choose that moment to start to care? Oh-that's right. I didn't. Otherwise, he was awesome, as usual. But, lemme tell you how nice it was to spend the WHOLE day with him and Animal on Sunday rather than running off to hide in my stinky, sauna-like office at school to shove my face in pages and pages of articles I should have read a month ago.
I survived the conference. Not my most stellar performance, but it's done. And my advisor is still talking to me. It's all good.
I start work in less than two weeks. Oh man. I'm excited about starting, I think. I'm miserable leaving New England. However, there are a few things I won't miss about here. The windows that don't open, don't stay open, or have glass panes ready to fall out of the sash if you walk by too hard. The exterior doors with the handles that don't work. The dry heat that runs at either zero or 130 degrees. The garbage that blows into our backyard from the white trash neighbors' apartment complex. The suicide turn you have to make into our odd one-way street. The shower that lets 80% of the water go through the bottom tub faucet, all of which is the hot water. The hot water heater that subjects the first shower of the morning (mine) to about 30 seconds of warm water and then trickles off into cold. Why bother shaving my legs at all? Neighbors that won't talk to us, likely because we live in the apartment house that separates the single-family owner-occupied homes from the low-income rental properties with driveways filled with gas-leaking cars and buildings covered in asbestos siding. The lead paint filled pantry and porch. The undergrad that argued he should be formally excused from a quiz Friday because he wanted to leave for spring break early. He told us ahead of time, so that counts as excused, right?
There about 100 things I will miss about being here and our lives here. But, I have cried enough in the last five weeks. I don't need to start again.
posted by Kris at 2:20 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home