Next on "Associate Dean Drama Theatre"

You know, all I want is to be finished with this goddamn thing. Really. Sadly however, in the last couple of weeks, the "AD Drama" plot has thickened to a heretofore unseen level of festering, moldy, curdled and reeking cesspool. Turns out the new AD-free structure for dissertation committees is still under consideration and hasn't been voted on yet, so it hasn't been announced, meaning there's no time to drop the offending committee member via that method if I'm to be finished in time to graduate in July. Then, due to situations beyond my control, the job of finding someone else to work was going to fall in my lap, and even though the issues really don't have anything to do with me, I was supposed to do it without telling anyone the reasons why yet another personnel change is necessary for my project.

-Wait. What? Back up.

In our previous installment, Much Beloved and Brilliant Reader #2 refused to work with Dr. New AD. When asked who he would work with, he suggested Dr. FunnyName, so I sent him an email asking him to play (careful not to reveal anyone's malice), but he turned me down because he's too busy with his own students. I can respect that. That left me with either Dr. Chest-Starer (who creeps out all of the busty students, not just me) or Dr. TooSickToBeAvailable-Ever. Now Dr. TooSick was my first AD. I fired her because she was never available. Something always took precedence over any meeting we scheduled: knee surgery, bad hair day, hip surgery, just plain forgot, stomach bug, toe surgery, allergies, head cold, another hysterectomy - the list was endless, so I found someone I could work with who was healthy and available and interested not only in my research but in getting me finished. As mentioned before, that guy took another job with more money and fewer hassles. Can't blame him, really. Nevertheless, it's left me vulnerable to any number of potential train wrecks. I picked Dr. New AD because since he was the new guy I didn't think he'd been there long enough to make any enemies but that day was clearly "opposite day." Apparently the guy is like a pet raccoon: what he doesn't fuck up he shits on. I need Reader #2 for his neuropsychological expertise, Dr. New AD is expendable. -But how to get him kicked off the island?

So here I am, stuck in the middle of a fucked up situation that has nothing to do with me but I'm paying for it in time, money, energy and frustration. Yay - higher cortisol levels for me! My favorite! Of the two remaining choices, my dissertation chair prefers Dr. TooSick because she'll roll over and do whatever the chair wants (a definite plus) and so far Reader #2 hasn't responded to my email about his preference. Madame chair's going out of town so she leaves it up to me to find out what the proper steps are to make the personnel switch and get a new AD by myself with only the 2 left to pick from, and I'm not allowed to say why. Yeah. Thanks for the nod to my level of competence, but this bullshit game of musical dissertation committee personnel gives the impression that I'm the problem, not them.

So whatever did you do, drsharna?

Well kiddos, lemme tell you. There's a little-known minion within the adminisphere at my school called a Dissertation Coordinator. Her job is to make sure all the steps are followed so that dissertations get completed smoothly, properly and on time. She's also a huge student advocate, which I learned when it was necessary for me to fire my first dissertation chair. After careful analysis of the situation, I decided that my committee executed the mortal sin of unsportsmanlike behavior by putting me in the position they did and that ultimately it would not be in my best interest to cover for them. I called the Dissertation Coordinator and without blaming anyone, I told her everything. Since she's the official go-to person for committee personnel change, she can't help me if she doesn't know the whole story.

She informed me that Dr. ChestStarer is going on a month-long vacation pretty soon (...wonder what that's like?), so he's out, leaving me only with Dr. TooSick - if she'll agree to participate, that is. She then rattled my chair's cage, informed her of our conversation and told her to contact Dr. TooSick and explain the situation. I received an email from Madame Chair late last night stating that Dr. TooSick agreed to play but that she is not considering her as part of the "core committee." This means that all she has to do is sign off on the final document once the others reach agreement, and they've already decided that they're going to reach agreement. While in the grand scheme of things this is really great news, my excitement is diminished because of the fucking hassle it's become.

The proposal is due Sunday and I'm on track to have that in for committee review - no sweat. The problem is that the committee then has 30 days to review it then they all have to get together to approve it. There are a few other glitches, too. Instead of the June 1 completion date suggested by Reader #2, the final document must be submitted by the first or second week in May. Which means, provided they want no further revisions to the proposal, I'll have to write up the results and discussion sections in just a few days. No pressure or anything. Now before you hyperventilating and breaking out in sympathy shingles on my behalf, be aware that I have done a lot of work on the front-end of this process. The hospital and school Institutional Review Boards have both already approved my research and the data are archival, so they've already been collected. All I have to do is crunch the numbers, interpret them and report the results. Properly motivated, and considering that I am really good at making things happen on really short notice, I might be able to get it done after all. Wish me luck.

I just wish it weren't such a goddamn cluster fuck to get there.

tags technorati : dissertation, bitching

Why I Don't Mind Sitting in the Corner...

A few weeks ago I redecorated my bedroom and posted before & after pictures. There was a little fan back chair that was given to me 20 years ago by a much beloved great aunt in the room that suddenly didn't "go" anymore. So on the day before Thanksgiving, The Girl & I loaded it up into the back of one of The Man's pickup trucks and hauled it to the same upholsterer who re-covered it ten years ago. Interestingly, the guy remembered the chair and was happy to give it yet another new skin. He also told me that I won't find a chair of that quality today, which made me happy because I've always liked that chair, even when I was a little girl. The Girl & I pored over many fabric books and she found this beautiful fabric in ivory with gold scrollies all over it. The upholsterer's assistant delivered the chair Saturday, just in time for the party. We tossed in a little wooden book case from my childhood and the green cashmere throw came from Overstock.com and I got it for a song. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't know that little corner of my world didn't look like that all along.

The Audition

The Girl auditioned for the All-District Band yesterday and made 3rd chair out of about 40 high school girls who tried out. The two girls ahead of her were both seniors and everyone below her until the girl in 9th chair (a freshman who is one of my former students, thankyouverymuch), everyone who made the band was either a junior or a senior. All things considered, The Girl made an excellent showing so she can't really complain. The clinic and concert will be next Saturday, then she can work on improving the music for the All-Region Band tryout December 1. The competition will be stiffer then because now that marching season is over, they actually have time to work on the honor band music. At any rate, she was 7th chair All-Region last year with only seniors and 2 juniors ahead of her - yep, you guessed it - the 2 girls who are ahead of her in All-District this year. Taking that into consideration, we expect her to go to Area this year. We'll see. If she doesn't pass Geometry she will be ineligible to compete, and all the work she's done since January will have been in vain. Send her some positive math energy to pull her through.

Some Days Are Barely Worth Chewing Through the Restraints

Just when you think things can't get much more fucked-up-ier, the Associate Dean drama takes on a new level of weirdness. Today I get an email from my chair informing me that since Dr. Pet Raccoon gave me a little bit of feedback on a draft of my proposal 3 months ago that he has to officially give his blessing and sign off on any switch in personnel. Oh, and it's up to me to make nice and tell him he's fired without actually telling him that the reason is nobody else likes him or wants to play with him. Greeeeeaaat.

Well hell. The last thing I want to do at this stage of the game is get in the middle of some professional pissing match. One of my lesser-known talents is the ability to tell someone to go to hell and actually make them look forward to the trip. So, dredging up all my best tactics from my previous career in sales, I put together a short but sweet (shut up, Slick, I can TOO be sweet) email stating that "due to unforeseen circumstances that have nothing to do with me or your brief comments several months ago," blah blah blah. I made damn sure to run it by my chair first though in case it came back to bite me in the ass. With her blessing I sent it on and waited. We all know how good I am at that.

In the interim, I get another email from my chair informing me that she'd just gotten an email from Dr. Chest-Starer who thinks that he's on my committee. 0_o Turns out that according to my "permanent record," he is. This weirdness turned out to be a good thing, because it confused the shit out of everyone. When I received the response from Dr. Pet Raccoon a couple of hours later, he graciously honored my polite request to discontinue on my committee and approve Dr. TooSick to continue in his stead. Why the fuck they have to make everything so goddamn complicated is beyond me. Maybe if they didn't do that, they would have nothing to do.

I guess it's like Granddad always said, "If you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, baffle 'em with bullshit."

tags technorati : bitching, dissertation

Where to begin?

Perhaps hell isn't the exact verbage to describe the dissertation process. It's more like an extremely protracted pregnancy and labor that no one who has not been similarly embroiled can comprehend. Like pregnancy and childbirth too, one takes on a new language that only those "in the club" understand. We discuss institutional review boards, statistical computations, "THE LITERATURE" and a little thing we affectionately refer to as "p." People who have been in doctoral study have their own dissertation horror stories that they are all too willing to share with the novitiate - not unlike veteran mothers' pregnancy and labor horror stories. I guess this blog is to share mine. Just be happy I'm not sharing gory pregnancy details, although I'm not sure which is worse.

I can't even talk about my research or the process because no one in my immediate world understand. No one in my family has ever gone this far in the education system so no one in my world has ever been "with dissertation." They don't understand that it is all-consuming - not unlike a newborn, and requires near constant tending. All they want to know is when I'll be finished. Funny. I recently submitted the first draft of my proposal to my chair and spent a good half hour explaining the remaining steps to my husband. Somehow he failed to grasp that the first draft of the proposal was not the end of the ordeal. A few days later I received a scholarship for the coming semester (don't quite know how that happened, but I am grateful), and his response was, "Another semester!?" (<-- italicize that.) Sigh.

Whoever had the bright idea of conducting a major piece of research by committee was clearly a sadist. As if getting 5 academics to agree on anything is even possible, much less probable (3,265,422,589 : 1 and falling). Jeez. My first associate dean (AD) had more health problems than anyone I've known on this side of the dirt. She was constantly on leave for surgery: gall bladder surgery, thyroid surgery, knee surgery, another hysterectomy, the list goes on & on. To top that off, during the rare times she was available, regardless of what dissertation concept idea I floated past her, her response was, "Well, that's clearly anecdotal..." Duh - the wheel was anecdotal at one time too, dumbass. Rumor has it she thinks anyone with a southern drawl is a dolt, regardless of their IQ scores. So, I switched to another AD who was available, committed to getting me graduated and understood that there is no "perfect" piece of research. We got along great as colleagues and friends but he recently took a much better job elsewhere. Can't blame him. The school automatically assigned me to the person who is in charge of the health psychology concentration. I don't like the guy. I don't think he is aware, but health psychology is not geriatric neuropsychology despite how he thinks it might fit under his umbrella. Besides that he has known issues with my second faculty reader (who is a neuropsychologist) and he's a flagrant chest-starer. I don't have time, money or patience for bullshit at this point, so I requested someone else. Sure, the new guy's specialization is in mass crisis (think 9-11 & Katrina - he was there) but at least he will be willing to learn something new and not try to force fit it into his paradigm.

My first dissertation committee chairperson had me chasing down a different rabbit hole every week in search of a viable topic. I felt like Alice in Fuckedupland. After a year of that, and a small fortune in association fees, book purchases and the like, I fired him out of sheer frustration. He didn't even realize I'd fired him until he hadn't heard from me in over 2 months. My new chair & I sat down together and formed a plan over gyros in an afternoon. It's all about picking a committee that is as focused on getting you PhinisheD as you are.

My mother's day present this year was to be able to take an extended leave from (read: quit) my job to focus on my dissertation. I had stayed on at my internship site after internship was over to do psychological assessments for Social Security. My husband had lost his job, so I was working to bring in extra money so we could stay afloat but the homework that acompanies such a job was consuming any time I had for anything else - including my dissertation. So he put his executive skills to work and figured out that I was spending more on tuition than I was making while not making any progress on my research. Even though he hadn't had a job in nearly a year & 1/2, he told me to quit my job and get finished already. Talk about a leap of faith. He landed another job about 6 weeks after my last day on the job. My teenage daughter remarked yesterday that I am much more relaxed & happy and don't seem near as tired as when I was working there.

Fast forward to a week ago. My chair blessed the first draft of my proposal with only one small clarification & told me to go ahead and take care of that & send it on to my new associate dean (who promptly told me to hurry up and wait because of the holidays & an upcoming major conference - I'm okay with that) and the statistics consultant (who was very thorough in her feedback and requested what I perceive as minimal revisions & clarifications). I submitted the paperwork to the hospital to conduct the research and they're putting me through the expedited review process since I want to use archival data. So it's more hurry up & wait. It's the holidays though so I'm okay with that. I'll think about it next week after I put the giant green pagan symbol & all the ornaments back in the attic.

I think I'll snuggle up on the sofa with my daughter, have some Earl Grey, watch a movie & just chill for the rest of the morning before I run the final holidayesque errands this afternoon. Come to think of it, that's the best idea I've had all day.

PS
Happy Global Orgasm Day!

Jill off for peace...

Concession Stand Confessional (aka the Popcorn Diaries)

The level of people's stupidity never ceases to amaze me. I am the publicity officer for the Band Boosters for The Girl's high school band, so every Monday night through football season I have to attend these asinine meetings with four sensible people and two gap-toothed, baboon-assed, booger-eating morons. Unfortunately the Two are the president and vice president of the group and they appear more interested in bickering, bitching, fighting and hindering the work of the group than anything else. The president is just a twit and the vice president is the band director's wife - which is a conflict of interest since the band director is not allowed a vote - although the Two do try to push his agenda. The Two are disliked by the greater membership and there have been a number of people who have stated outright that they will not work with them because a) they are bossers, not leaders and 2) all they want to do is bitch and fight. I think it's because they're so used to bitching and fighting over every little thing that they don't know how to not, but what do I know?

At any rate, our most important fundraiser for our band kids is the home-side concession stand at football games. This year, we switched sides when the stadium renovation was complete and the home side was moved to the South side of the stadium. The new concession is newer and a little bigger but I can't honestly say it's any better. The electrical system wasn't exactly installed "to code" or by "licensed electricians," but it is what it is and after some fiddling about with what equipment can be plugged in where, and what combinations of things can't be plugged in together without tripping breakers, things finally ran smoothly at Friday night's game (of which I was in charge because our concession chair was out of town).

We've had issues for a few years now with equipment. The band director seems to think that with enough bubblegum, baling wire and "redneck engineering," that things should last forever. The Man and I are usually in charge of running the popcorn and snowcone machines. People in Fundietonfieldvilleview absofuckinglutely love popcorn and snowcones and since they're such high profit items, we take in loads of money that's almost pure profit. So much so that realistically we can't afford not to sell these two items. The popcorn machine started giving us problems from the first game this season. The screw that held the kettle dump handle in place stripped out so we couldn't dump corn into the cabinet and although the kettle got hot, it took forever to heat up and pop a batch of corn. The Man was trying to dump the corn by using pot holders but was burning himself. Before the following game, the band director "fixed" it but he fixed it incorrectly and it finally gave out during the first quarter of our homecoming game. My husband informed the concession chair that if that machine was still sitting there the next time he came to help, he would turn around and go back home.



Interestingly, as I was searching for a new machine for the concession stand, I ran across one of those really cool antique looking ones on a cart for $500 on Craigslist. It was only about a 2 & 1/2 hour drive away so The Man had me go down and get it the same day I was to go to ACE Mart for the new one for the concession stand (an hour the other direction). I need to find a better place to put it than the game room but I guess it's okay right there as long as no one's trying to play pool.
So anyway, with the band director insisting that the old machine was fine (which it's not, but then again he doesn't use it so he really doesn't know - he just likes to bitch and fight because apparently that's all they know how to do), I put together a presentation for the next meeting about popcorn, the popcorn machine, how much we sell, and how much we lose when we don't sell it. I left them wiggle room and when it was put to a vote, everyone voted yes except one abstention - you got it, one of the Two. So I trotted down to ACE Mart restaurant supply to buy a shiny new popcorn maker. As The Girl and I were carrying it in from my truck, I backed into some weight equipment in the field house and fell, with the popcorn machine falling on top of me. Fortunately it wasn't damaged, which is good because I ended up having to take it back because we didn't have the correct electrical outlet for plugging in the machine. Soooo I went back to ACE Mart and got a smaller one that used a regular grounded plug. The cool part though is that it heated up in no time and was popping corn immediately and so far we have not had any problems keeping up with demand. -Oh and it hasn't tripped any breakers. Can't forget that.

This is what my arm looks like when a popcorn machine falls on it.
This is what my ass looks like when I fall over weight machines in the field house with a popcorn machine on top of me. There were other bruises too but these were the worst.

The next equipment issue is the refrigerator. We don't have one. Instead, we have removed the bottom couple of racks from the 7-foot tall coolers provided to us by Coca Cola via the contract with the school. One of the stipulations of that contract is that non Coca Cola product is not to be kept in them -ever. That doesn't just mean no competitor's products, that also extends to non-competitor products such as ranch dressing, lettuce, cheese, or anything else not specifically produced and marketed by the Coca Cola company. However for at least the last 11 years, that's exactly where they've kept the ranch dressing, lettuce, cheese and everything else that would normally be kept in a refrigerator. Last week our Coke rep came by to meet with the concession chair to check on things, not only how well she was servicing us but how well we were complying with the contract. The band director and the Two were incensed about this visit, "What was she doing down there!?" Well, it's her fucking job and she also visited every other installation of these coolers, including the choir concession and the regular vending machines throughout the school district. She informed us that we should be thankful that her boss didn't see all that stuff in the bottom of both of our coolers because he'd yank those coolers out of there in a heartbeat. Where would we be then?

So I called a few people to ask them to keep their ears to the ground for a good refrigerator that we could pick up cheap. The next day, my dad called me back and said that he was unable to get us a refrigerator. Of course I thanked him for trying and told him I appreciated his effort et cetera. Then he informed me that instead he got us a $350 grant from the local VFW post for a new refrigerator. You'd think these thundercunts (thanks, Jess!) would be excited about such a generous windfall, but NOOOOOO! The band director informed us that we didn't need a refrigerator but we do need a freezer and that's where he wanted to spend the money. (Nevermind that we just bought a brand new freezer last year that works great, it's just a little small in that it can only hold enough product for one game at a time, not for the entire season.) Besides, there's a behemoth of a cabinet-looking thing that used to be a refrigerator in the storage room (where there's no electrical outlet) that belongs to the sports boosters that he wants to pay to try to get fixed and use the grant money to buy a freezer. So the discussion was tabled at last week's meeting. O_o

Uh - reality check, please? First of all, the nature of grants is that grant money must be used for the purpose for which it has been earmarked. Period. Second, in our local VFW (of which I'm a 3rd generation life member of the Ladies Auxiliary, so I know how they operate), an initial grant to anyone is never more than about $150-200, but since The Girl is my dad's only granddaughter and it was benefitting her band, dad got it approved.

What I couldn't seem to help them understand was that if we handle this well, then we are guaranteed more -and bigger- grants in the future. If we handle it really really well, they may host a benefit for us like a casino night or auction or something that couldn't be done through the school (When my high school band wanted to go to Disney, they raised over $10,000 for us - and that was over 20 years ago). On the other hand, if we handle this badly, as the band director and the Two are trying to do, we not only lose this grant but any potential future grants - not only from the VFW, but any other charitable organization. Most of these guys are members of more than one similar group. My dad is a member of the VFW, American Legion, Moose, Elks, and Masons - and he's just one guy. Not only that but these old guys are bigger gossips than the wimmin, so handling the grant badly will definitely get us blacklisted and possibly even sued for misappropriation. Yet the Two want to argue over something that isn't costing us anything because that's what they like to do - bitch and fight. I pointed these issues out to them last night despite numerous attempted interruptions by the Two and after a vote (can you believe it? A vote over a freebie??) I'll be going to pick up the new refrigerator this week and I'll be sure to give dad and the guys at the VFW some extra love in the newspaper. After all, it's to help the kids - isn't it?

Hopefully the last equipment issue is the fryer. We've been using these stupid home countertop fryers for french fries, cheese sticks, corny dogs and now fried pickles as long as anyone can remember and have spent anywhere from $150 to $300 every year of the four since I've been active in band boosters and probably every year for eons before that replacing them, because they just weren't designed to handle the load we put on them. We are down from four fryers to one fryer owned by band boosters, and one owned by one of the Two. My personal fryer is also at the concession as a backup but we're not going to be able to continue to work with these much longer. If we're not feeding people, we're not making money and our job in the concession stand is to make money. Isn't it? Sometimes I get confused.

Last year we discussed purchasing a heavy duty restaurant style tabletop fryer, but the school can no longer serve fried foods so they donated a big ol' commercial fryer to us. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it's been more trouble than it's worth. First, when it was deposited in the concession, it was filthygrossnassssty. We've done all we can to clean it up, but it's still dripping grease on the floor and the bottom reservoir has been soaking in industrial degreaser for 2 months and still won't come clean. Then we found out that we need a commercial vent a hood to run it. Somehow an "executive decision" was made (probably by the Two and the band director in his office without consulting any of the other officers) to purchase a used one for $800. It is still sitting on the ground outside the concession. My stepdad is a federally licensed electrician and he agreed to come give us an estimate to install it. He couldn't touch it for under $4700 because of the labor and parts involved. We'd still need to hire a plumber licensed with the Railroad Commission to come in and install the fryer itself, incurring yet more expense in parts and labor. On top of that, there would be no guarantee that the vent a hood would even work because it was purchased used and sight unseen and has been sitting outside in the weather for six weeks. With the exception of the Two, the officers wanted to list it on Craigslist, ebay or whatever and sell the behemoth for which we never voted (and the bigass fryer we cant' use if the superintendent will allow us to since it was given to us) and purchase an industrial tabletop fryer for $600. The Two still wanted to try to get the school district to pay that 5 grand or more, thus further delaying our ability to feed the masses. The vote was taken and we'll be buying a new fryer this week too. If we're not feeding people we're not making money. If we're going to feed people to make money it is essential that we have equipment that is functioning properly - or am I missing something?

Here's the thing though. This is my 5th year working in the concession stand and my second year to work every home game. Ever since I started, the reported take for a home game was always around $400 - $700 for a big game like homecoming. Madame president was concession chair for all but last year but the reported take was the same. This year we have a different concession chair and a different treasurer. Food costs have gone up, Fundietonfieldvilleview hasn't grown appreciably and concession traffic seems about the same. So why is it that we're bringing in anywhere from $1200 on a very slow night and $3500 for homecoming? Friday night's game we cleared $2598 and we sold nothing during the 4th quarter when our team started losing. I think the Two and possibly the band director are so protective of the money we earn because they think it's theirs - because maybe they have been putting it in their own pockets? Or maybe they act like every dime that comes in will be the last one because their worldview is one of scarcity. Maybe I'm confused again, and I hate to accuse people of wrongdoing without proof, but something doesn't look right.

Then, just when I thought everything was in the clear, some kind of big metal spring fell out of the snowcone machine into some little kid's snowcone. The guy running the machine fished it out but I guess that will be our next purchase. I wonder how hard we'll have to fight over that one. At least those are only about $700. It's only money - we'll make more, right?

Oasis

Really the best way to describe the old look of the master bedroom was "Quilt Overload." Boooooorrrriiiinnngggg!! When I last painted, The Man informed me that I could paint the house any color I wanted as long as it was white. This, from a man who requires assistance in matching his ties to the rest of his work attire every morning. Once I painted The Girl's bedroom yellow, our bathroom a pale green (mental institution green if I'm being honest), and my home office a deep burgundy three years ago, and he actually liked them, that whole idea of white being the only suitable color for walls has gone out the window. Good thing too, because once I turned 40 I do as I damn well please. That wouldn't fly today - in fact I'd paint it baby shit green just to be oppositional if he tried that now.

Deep in the throes of the internship and the neverending writing project I didn't have time to do much in the way of anything, much less redecorating since my last major undertaking. Since I seem to have nothing but time for the next few weeks, it's on. I finished the master bedroom yesterday, despite having to take one can of paint back to Lowe's so they could put color in the paint. Don't get me started on the stupid little twit at the returns desk. Even The Girl noted the level of stupidity.

Granted, The Man & I almost came to blows over the stupid drapery hardware for which it's necessary to have an advanced engineering degree to put them back together, but we figured it out. I hate drapes anyway. They block my beautiful views of the trees, fields, et cetera. Their days may be numbered as I am seriously considering putting big ol' plantation shutters in there, but we'll see.

The little fan back chair in the corner (given to me 20 years ago by a much beloved late great aunt) will be taken to the upholsterer in the next few days to be re-covered in material closer to that of the bedspread. Interestingly enough, the new stuff will be similar to the upholstery it originally sported back in the 1950's when the chair was made through about ten years ago when I began living here.
I may need to learn to watch TV so I have a reason to just "be" in here.

We ain't got none o' them tecknalogickabul advantsmints, y'all.

Okay, so Thursday the humanities department chair at the local community college called and asked me to teach a general psych course. Dumbass here agreed, having wanted to do one for some time just for the experience. Friday afternoon around 3, for the sake of convenience, I met him at my local post office to get the textbook, which is an information overload if I've ever seen one. I took a full course - sometimes two or three - over what is covered in each chapter. There is no way in hell anyone can learn all of that in one semester so we're just going to cover the high points. Sometimes too much is just too much.

During the ice storms of the last few days, I've been working feverishly trying to get everything set up because what little I was given seemed woefully inadequate. The official syllabus mainly just addresses plagiarism and the official bibliography didn't have anything on it that had been published within the last 12 years (raise your hand if you can pronounce unethical...). The class scheduling was particularly bothersome because we'll have 2 fewer class periods to address the 14 chapters of textbook material because our final is first in the lineup, and we're supposed to have a "major project" in there somewhere. Did I pay attention to any of those red flags? Hell no I didn't. I was just excited to be offered yet another distraction from that stupid dissertation thingy. I needed another one - no, really - I did. Seriously.

So I get all this crap (including making a blog for class communication since as yet I have access to NOTHING at the school aside from the textbook) done over the weekend, fully expecting the school to be techno-nerd compliant, because it's a college, right? Guess what? It isn't. There's 1 (count 'em) 1 LCD projector for the whole college - scratch that, there is another one that belongs to the nursing department, but it belongs to the nursing department. Psychology is not part of the nursing department. Great.

Shit. Can't show Power Point presentations and minimize 25 people staring at me for an hour and a half waiting for me to say something deep and philosophical that they can can hold in their hearts foreverandever with no LCD projector. Can't do halfassed fun (okay, mildly interesting) live multimedia-driven lecturish kinda stuff with no LCD projector. Luddites. Good thing I'm not in it for the money.

Needless to say, after general introductions and threats of public humiliation for getting on my nerves for tardiness, eating in class, et cetera, plus a potty/water break were over, I reaallllyy should have let them go. Did I? No. Hell no. Not right away at least. No, I stood there and stammered some dumb bullshit about Wundt and introspection and some other dead guys with bushy eyebrows and something about Freud until they started giving me that "WTF!?" look as if I'd grown a third eye. I have a teenage daughter. I am all too familiar with that look. It was at that point I mercifully let them go.

I can pick up wireless internet access from another classroom so it's not a total loss. After class and about a 45-minute wait on the department chair, I received sort of a tour and brief access to the group copy card to make copies of the syllabus, etc., I still have no official paperwork filled out or access to the online component of the textbook (dammit - that's the fun stuff, too), or anything else. So what did I do? I went straight to CompUSA in Fort Worth and bought an LCD projector. I've been considering one for a long time so now I have one. Too bad the salesman sold me the wrong part to hook my MacBook's mini DVI into the VGA cable. I'll go back tomorrow and exchange it for the right part. Oh well, it's only money and time - I pull both of those out of my ass at an alarming rate, right?

4 Months From Now

Sigh. Here I sit trying to cobble together enough business every month to pay my bills. Altogether they aren't much really, but I thought seriously that I'd at least be making a living wage by this point and could contribute more to our family expenses. As it stands, I have what amounts to a handful of part time jobs, none of which pay worth a crap because they're kind of on an on-call basis, and the people I work for have pretty crappy reputations, so the referrals aren't coming in like they used to, so I'm not getting called as often. Granted part of the problem is that some of the referring agencies are at the end of their budget year, so they should pick up a little after September 1.

The good news though is that four months from today, my postdoc year (read: indentured servitude) will be over and I can start my independent professional life on my own terms. Sure I'll be slogging through the Medicare and insurance provider paperwork and trying to get established in my own practice with all the headaches and bills that entails, but at least I will be working under my own reputation and license, not someone else's. The better news is that I am already beginning to establish my own reputation and relationships with the major referrers in the region. They like my work, they like me personally and they have made it very clear that they want to know when and where I hang my shingle. It just can't be done until after the licensing paperwork is completed. I'll mail it December 4. Last year when I filed my provisional paperwork on the same date, it was approved December 31. Of course I didn't get the confirmation for a couple more weeks, but at least I got it.

The training for the giant corporate online university feels oddly like American Idol. There ended up being 378 trainees in my entry level class, then I was assigned to a group of 1o. Within the first week 4 of them dropped. Of the remaining 6 only 3 of us were in the same entry class so there was at least one other huge ass entry class somewhere. The training itself seems like a lot of busy work, but they have selected me to continue on to the next stage so that's good, I guess, except so far I'm not seeing a lot of attention being paid to academic rigor. After the next 2 weeks in developing syllabi et cetera (mind you I've already been through the first 2 weeks so in total this will be a full month of "training" i.e. working for free), the next stage will see me actually teaching a class with an instructor's instructor who can give me feedback on how I'm doing. I appreciate that. I will get paid the full rate for a doctoral level instructor for teaching that class, but that won't happen until the end of September. At least it's something to look forward to, but there's no guarantee that I'll even be offered a position until after the class wraps up in mid-to-late October.

Still no word on whether or not I'll be teaching at the community college again, and class starts in 3 weeks. The Psyc/Soci instructor/coordinator guy left in May, which is why the division chair asked me to apply for that job, which I did immediately - in May. Now the division chair is leaving so the two top leadership positions in that area are vacant, and nobody's saying a word. I'm debating whether to shoot a friendly email to the human resources coordinator to check on the status of my application.

The good news of the whole thing is that at least I'm 2/3 of the way through the postdoctoral purgatory year and that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Take one look around and you can see that nobody's starving around here. We still have a roof over our heads, the lights are still on, and I still have stuff I can sell on eBay. I can do anything for 4 months. However, if you know the money fairy, could you send it my way? Kthxbai.

The First Week of the Rest of My Life, or Funny, You Don't LOOK Like a Doctor

Man, have I been busy! While I was waiting for permissions guy, I remembered that I never did complete "Neuropsychology 101," and thereby complete the neuropsychology concentration certificate program I was taking concurrent with the PhD. The visions in my head showed me, a few years down the road, applying to take the neuropsychology board exams so I can put ABPN behind the PhD and officially be able to call myself a neuropsychologist. The rejection letter read something like this: "Dear Schmuck, We've noticed that you have extensive advanced coursework in neuropsychology in addition to impressive clinical work in practicum, internship, postdoctoral fellowship and specialized clinical training, but you never took Neuro 101. Sorry, but you can't be in our club. Thanks but no thanks, Neurodudes." Considering that boards like that are always looking for reasons to not let people in, I didn't want to take that risk. Besides, I was instrumental in getting the neuropsychology concentration off the ground and was the first president of the neuropsychology student association, so what kind of model was I presenting to those who came after me? Soooo, I asked the much-beloved professor about what to do and he was still willing to allow me to phone in my work. I didn't realize it would take 2 hours, but it's finished. I even got an A.

I got tired of waiting for "permissions guy" (since I was only asking for permission as a professional courtesy as the work is in the public domain), and sent my dissertation to the printer for the final copies. I've done business with these people since The Girl was a baby, back before I had my personal shopping business. When Arlene called to tell me the copies were ready to pick up, I asked her how much I owed, and she told me that she only charged me 7 cents per sheet, as if she had run them on the copier, not on the printing press, using the heavy 25% cotton bond archival quality paper. When I got there, she added the official original signature pages and lovingly shrink-wrapped each copy. She even had a shipping label ready for me. When we taped up the box, she said she had something else she wanted to go over with me so we went inside and she pointed out the shredder - then promptly stuck my invoice into it and refused to allow me to pay because she and her husband are so proud of how far I've come.

(A proud Arlene with the final copies and the UMI forms.)

I went straight to the post office to mail that bad boy off and get it out of my hair fo'evah and couldn't stop smiling while I was in line. Surely I looked like some kind of lunatic, but I didn't care. The clerk asked me how much I wanted to insure it for and I asked her how one places a value on 7 years of your life. It cost $40 to ship via express mail, but it was worth it to know that it would be delivered no later than noon PST Monday December 3, thus marking the officially official final and terminal no shit, for real, honest to GAWD end to my status as a student. I don't know about y'all, but I felt the gravitational pull of the earth shift as the weight of that thing slipped from my shoulders.

Meanwhile, The Man was celebrating his last day in the workforce. His coworkers were having a happy hour for him after work so The Girl and I went to a new restaurant in the town where Suz & I grew up. As soon as I got a taste of that first margarita swirl, I knew she & hubby needed to join us. Then, they made some seriously awesome guacamole at the table and I was hooked. Now that The Girl is fully licensed to drive, I could have two margaritas because I didn't have to worry about driving home.

So Saturday, we traversed to a town about 100 miles away for All-Region Band tryouts - she on the bus, me in my car so I could escape & get lunch. I was recruited to be room monitor for the clarinet room and was thrilled beyond belief that I didn't have to judge flutes this year. I wasn't prepared for the ensuing boredom though. To keep myself entertained, I was making faces, chair dancing, checking email & playing Bejeweled on my iPhone - anything to stay awake. No, the kids couldn't see me - I was sitting behind them. Over in the flute room, it may come as no surprise that The Girl was kicking ass and taking names. She made 5th chair Symphonic band, which means that she gets to advance to All-Area auditions next month. All four girls ahead of her are seniors so look out next year. I am so proud of my Girl. She never ceases to amaze me.

Sunday found me beginning the purging process in my office. I began with the closet from hell, which really looks like an annex of Staples more than anything else. I took everything out

and put it in the middle of the room, which was already pretty crowded.
I've sifted through every piece of paper from 7 years in gradual school, the soap business and every other aspect of my life. In addition to the 3 bins I've already done and the 1 left for me to go, The Man is finally going through all of his mother's papers now that he has time. She was a professional patient so we have boxes of her "sensitive medical information" dating back to 1976 that need to be shredded. It's beginning to sound a lot like Enron around here with all the shredding.

Monday I met with a colleague of mine from school to discuss a business venture that ties her internship, my postdoc and our future private practice all up into one tidy package - with lovely ribbons and bows. More as things develop, but let's just say the prospect is very exciting and that I'll be living one of those, "I made ridiculous amounts money working part time from home doing what I love," infomercials. Later in the day, I found out that the final copies of my dissertation landed at the school about the time we began our meeting. The university officially can't ask me to do Another. Fucking. Thing. Ever.

Tuesday morning found me finishing up the paperwork for the provisional license. I was also doing more sifting and shredding of paper. Tuesday evening we went to The Grandtwins' Xmas pageant at school. The contemporary praise music feel of the thing really didn't do it for me. At. All. The kids were cute though and they were proud of their performance, which was, thankfully, short.

Wednesday Mom & I went furniture shopping - finally. We've only been trying to go since I painted the living room. We When I got home and told The Man what & where I'd found what I want and when we have an appointment to go see the salesperson, he asked, "Do I have to go? Just go get what you want." Which led to a rather heated conversation (on my end) about how it was my understanding that my job was just to go narrow it down to a couple of options then we would decide together and that if I had known he was just going to tell me to get whatever, I could have handled it right then and there instead of having to make 2 trips to a store that's 80 miles away. Needless to say, he will be joining me at 10am tomorrow to select from the finalists.

Yesterday, The Man & I went to the new office of the practice where I served my internship to pick up a little cabinet and the neatest little fold-out table that I used for testing. When it's folded up, it looks like a little cabinet, but it has a secret. It was the perfect table for the micro-space we had in that office. I don't think anyone has dusted either of them since I left, even though it looked as if everyone and their dog were using them. When I tried to slide out the little table though, one of the hinges was bent and the support wouldn't slide out. Pissed me off, but The Man helped me bend it back so that I can slide it out. I'm going to leave it out for awhile & maybe it will stick. If it doesn't I'll just replace the hinge later. Still, what the fuck is wrong with people that they tear stuff up then don't offer to fix or replace what they've damaged?

Today I'll finalize the shredding and sifting in my office, list that Treo on eBay and make some soap. It's nice to have less clutter in my space.

After all that, I have to start preparations for a midwinter party we're having next Saturday. There's plenty of cooking and baking and cleaning and shining of stuff to be done, but I've still not gotten over the feeling that there's no more academic writing to be done. How long does it take for that go to away?

That's all I know right now. Gotta scoot - there's more shredding yet to do.

Love,
Me, Ph.D.

Holidaze Over, Need Naps Nao Plz. Kthxbai.

moar funny pictures

Look. I maded a lolcat - but I eated it. This kitteh blongs to The Grandtwins. I like cats - as long as they're "over there." I have serious allergy to cats that leaves my eyes looking like the creature from The Blob. Anyway, I took this picture at a recent gathering at their house. Just moments before, kitteh was beating the hell outta that reindeer plushy so my caption seemed appropriate. I don't know if it will make it to I Can Has Cheezburger or not but it was fun to do anyway.

It's been a busy few days. Mostly I've been curled up by the fire reading books in my new leather chair (which matches the new leather group & tables that The Man & I purchased for Holiday - yes, apparently after 14 years our relationship has moved into the "one large purchase for everyone" phase. Next year what do you want to bet we buy a plasma TV "for both of us"?). At any rate, I read books (devoured, if I'm being honest) - real books of the non-academic type. Books that had nothing to do with brains or neuropsychology or academics and were not written at a postgraduate level, so I blasted through them in no time flat.

Bitter is the New Black

Little Black Book of Wine

Frommer's Dream Vacations

Windows on the World Complete Wine Course

I Am Woman, I Am Invincible...I Am Tired

The Complete Travel Detective Bible

Culture Shock! Scotland: A Survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette

...and my personal favorite, Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations. I really have a thing for Chef Bourdain. Not that he'd ever be in danger of crossing my path, what with me firmly grounded in Texas and him trotting the 'round globe, and all that business about personal and professional ethics, so the whole stalker thing is out. Still, I think he'd be fun to party with and it would be so refreshing to have a conversation with someone with a broad world view who actually had something interesting to say. Sigh.

Other than that, The Girl hosted a Monty Python-Athon the day after Xmas, so the house was descended upon by a dozen or so teenagers bearing Spam and coconut shells. It was fun and since there's a state-wide curfew for teenage drivers, they were all gone by midnight except the one or two girls spending the night.

Last night we went to a New Year's Eve/Suz's Birthday party at her new hubby's best friend's new home. They built it themselves over the last two years and it still isn't quite finished, but they've moved in. Funny, when I have people over I at least make sure to pick up the common areas of the house, run a quick dust cloth over things and clean the bathrooms, but even between cleanings every week my house doesn't get like that. Don't even get me started on the cocktail weenies in storebought barbeque sauce and the uber-sweet Doux sparkling wine thing toast at midnight and the egregious faux pas in the lack of blackeyed peas on the table - at a New Year's party in Texas - harrumph. The fireworks that I imported from Missouri after Grandpa's funeral were the highlight of our evening out. Looks like I'm going to need to visit Grandma sometime before the 4th of July for a refill.

As soon as we got home, we cracked open a bottle of Asti Spumante (not my favorite but I was out of Roederer and Asti is what The Man likes in sparkling varietals) and we each ate a bowl of blackeyed peas with salt jowl that I had put in the slow cooker in the afternoon.

Other than that, now that I've rabidly consumed most of the non-academic books I've accumulated in the last 2 years, I'm plowing into a few more books to help me prepare for my postdoc work:

The Paper Office talks at length about the ethical considerations of marketing, billing, doing business with third-party payers, et cetera, and it includes sample forms so I won't have to re-invent the wheel in creating my own forms when I'm fully licensed to hang out my shingle.

Successful Private Practice in Neuropsychology is pretty much just what the title says. It's a kind of how-to in keeping the practitioner's clinical, teaching and research interests in balance and still paying the bills while alone on the private practice mountaintop. So far a lot of what she says makes me think, "Well, duh..." but there are some good nuggets of wisdom in there from someone who's been there, so I'm not going to dismiss it entirely.

There's also Geriatric Neuropsychology, which I haven't delved into yet. Considering that my area of expertise is geriatric neuropsychological functioning, one wouldn't think that I would need a book like that, but in the interest of keeping myself educated about current methodology and research, that's exactly the kind of book I need. I'm looking forward to digging in this evening.

I don't know anything else right now other than I've got a big ol' pot of New Year's Day blackeyed peas in the slow cooker, a ham in the oven and cornbread with fried taters & onions just begging for me to cook them. I hope everyone has a healthy, happy and wildly prosperous 2008 filled with love, and that all of your fondest dreams are made real. That said, if you'll excuse me, I'm getting back to my books and my comfy leather chair by the fire.

Night of the Living Stupid People (aka Popcorn Diaries Part Deux)

Okay so yesterday there was this big email discussion going on - without everyone in the loop - that we were going to table the fryer discussion yet again. This was after we had already voted on it unanimously with one abstention, which counts as an "Aye" according to parliamentary procedure. There was a statement made that we were like kids in a candy store and were spending too much money - none of this of course was said to either the concession chair or me, who is just a helper and shows up to do what I'm told which is usually take care of the popcorn and snowcones and be sure to put an article about the band in the newspaper every week. Once I was forwarded this long and asinine email string which I won't include here, and had some time to think, I chimed into the discussion (probably to the dismay of everyone else once they get to work this morning and start checking email) and I told them exactly what I think. I tried to remain calm and just state the facts but here is my reply (let me know if you think I've been too harsh, wouldja?):

M, thank you for including me in the loop. This appears to be a
discussion that should have included everyone from the beginning. Here
are some general observations I've made in the course of all this
nonsense. To preface my statements, I want to make very clear that
secrets, lies and not talking about what everybody knows but is afraid
to say is not helpful to anyone. Please be advised that I am not
writing anything here that I would not be willing to discuss with any
of you face-to-face and welcome your input if I have misperceived
something.

First, let me remind everyone that our purpose in having a band
booster organization is supposed to be about helping our kids. Please
ask yourselves: how is all of this bickering and infighting helping
our kids? Are you so accustomed to fighting that you don't know how
not to bicker and fight, even over things that should be a non-issue?
--Or are you so accustomed to scarcity and lack that you fear every
nickel we bring in is going to be the last one we ever see? Investing
in equipment is just that - an investment that will help us do our job
as a booster club better by allowing us to make more money because
we'll be able to serve our customers better. If we're not feeding the
people, we're not making money. If we don't have adequate and
functioning equipment, we can't feed the people, therefore we can't
make money. It's that simple. It's not rocket science and shouldn't
need my Mensa card or my PhD to understand.

We are making more money in the concession this year than has been
reported in the last 4 years. This is curious to me, considering that
food costs have only gone up, and we're feeding the same old crowd,
but with no appreciable changes in menu pricing. Is all of the
controversy supposed to serve as a smokescreen for something else? I'm
just wondering because everything isn't adding up.

Considering the money we are bringing in, and that we allocated $2000
for a new fryer last year, it would seem that we can afford to spend
more on quality - as we voted and approved - instead of the usual
"WalMart Fall Aparts" that have been purchased - and repurchased - and
repurchased ad nauseum in the past. If you buy quality to begin with,
it costs less in the long run because it isn't necessary to constantly
replace or repair it. Again, it shouldn't take a PhD to understand
that. As much fried food as we sell at every game - well in excess of
the $600 purchase price of the big fryer we voted for and approved
Monday - it will pay for itself in less than one game and be around
for a very long time because it was designed to handle that kind of
volume. When Santa (or the Easter Bunny or whatever imaginary friend
you choose) doesn't come, we'll still have adequate equipment so that
we can feed the people and therefore continue to be able to make money
-uninterrupted and without controversy or additional expense for
several years. If by some miracle the school does come through, we can
sell a nearly new commercial fryer for nearly all of what we have in
it. We'll get nothing back from a nearly new home fryer. I'm not
holding my breath though, considering that they've been promising the
choir similar improvements since that building was constructed and
clearly those improvements haven't happened. The 10, 14 and 15 pound
fryers were presented at the meeting two weeks ago when D and I
initially presented fryer information - the 20 pound just gives us the
most bang for the buck so that's what we voted on - unanimously, with
one abstention, which counts as a Yes, according to parliamentary
procedure. I think the bylaws say that once we've approved something,
we're supposed to follow through. It doesn't make sense to continue to
throw good money after bad, because that doesn't help our kids.

There is no "kid in a candy store" situation here unless you count the
ventahood that was purchased on an "executive decision," without a
vote, sight unseen and without having done any research into what it
was going to take to install it. Boy are we all getting an education
in electrical engineering! The reality of the situation is that things
break down and wear out, and they never wear out alone - they always
take something else down with them. Bad things happen in 3's, right?
Eventually all the bubblegum, baling wire and redneck engineering in
the world isn't going to help and it ends up being more costly - and
dangerous - not to proceed with new equipment and unfortunately it
doesn't come free. My husband had to buy a new tractor, rake, round
and square balers a couple of years ago when they all wore out and had
to be replaced all at once - during the middle of hay season - to the
tune of well over 100K, so I understand that. This appears to be the
year for that to happen for us, although thankfully not on the scale
of our haying equipment. Not to throw gas on the fire, but I forgot to
mention the big metal spring that fell out of the snowcone machine
into some kid's snowcone Friday night (lawsuit, anyone?). I'm not
saying we need a new one. It may have come from one of the bags of
ice, but it's a heads-up so that we are ALL in the loop that it may be
our next casualty. Sorry - stuff breaks - that's life - get over it
and let's move on and get back to the business of feeding the people
and making money so we can help our kids.

My dad and I purchased and delivered the new refrigerator this morning
so Coke should be happy with us now. Thanks for letting us into the concession stand,
C! It even has the wire shelves about which K1 was so
insistent. When I told dad about how much money we are trying to raise
for the uniforms, he offered to approach the VFW membership about
doing some other fundraising activities like a special bingo, a
motorcycle "fun run" and several other activities that typically bring
in at least a couple of grand a pop and wouldn't have to be approved
through the school. However, I am seriously reluctant to accept their
generosity, given the behavior of Mr. B, K1 and K2 over the grant
for the refrigerator. The last thing we want to do is come off as a
bunch of ingrates, and that was the direction Mr. B, K1 and K2
were heading. How sad that they don't possess the social skills to how
to graciously accept a gift. I didn't tell my dad about the asinine
controversy because I would like to be able to approach them for more
help in the future, despite my misgivings. After all, it is supposed
to be about helping our kids and if the adults can't conduct
themselves any better than that, it's not worth the embarrassment.

In the interest of honesty and while I'm airing my views, according to
the bylaws, the band director can ask the boosters for things, but he
has no say in how we spend the funds we generate. Don't get me wrong,
I support Mr. B and I want him to have whatever his little heart
desires, but he is not allowed to dictate how we spend the funds. End
of story. Maybe having K1 as vice president leans toward a conflict
of interest in that area. Mr. B can be a good band director -I've seen
it- but he has a bad temper and takes his personal and professional
frustrations out on the kids - sadly, I've seen that, too - too much
of it. They get tired of being yelled and cussed at over minutiae
while his perfect boys get away with murder and handed the best
solos, et cetera. This is a big part of the reason why we can't keep
kids in band or keep parents involved. Without the kids we have no
band/Without involved parents we can't help our kids.

Our top leadership doesn't appear to know how to lead, only how to
boss and bicker. People don't like to work with K2 because she
doesn't know when to stop talking, doesn't appear to have an inside
voice or room in her world view for an opinion other than her own. Not
to be mean but in fact, when people are called to volunteer in the
concession stand, often the first thing they ask is if K1 and/or
K2 are going to be there and they won't come if they know either of
them are going to be there because they don't like being yelled at or
having their cases climbed over something minor. That's not how you
treat volunteers, but they've made it pretty clear that they don't
think officers should work it anyway - personally, I don't think any
of us are too good.

K1 is another story entirely. People don't like to work with her
because of her hot temper and negative attitude. You never know when
she's going to verbally attack someone - or worse, show up at your
house raising cain and further traumatizing your daughter who was
already sexually harassed by at least one of her sons. In my personal
and professional experience, if a person has problems with everyone
with whom they come in contact, chances are really good that the
problem does not lie with everyone else. It is sad that it had to come
down to K1 getting chewed on the other night. Perhaps she should
have spoken up during the meeting instead of sitting there red-faced
and stewing then waiting until the people she was talking about behind
their backs were gone. Considering that K1 has no absolutely no
qualms about jumping in the middle of anyone she perceives as crossing
her path, perhaps it's time she learns to take a dose of what she
dishes out, because that type of behavior does not help our kids.

Frankly, I am disgusted and embarrassed that grown people are acting
this way when we're supposed to be about helping the kids. I've
considered leaving the organization because of the stupid circular
arguments, walking on eggshells and the groupthink tendency to want to
do things half-assed, but someone has to be the voice of reason and
keep our mission of helping our kids in mind. This ridiculousness has
gone on long enough. Let's move on and get back down to the business
of helping our kids.

Spoke Too Soon

You remember how yesterday I said I kept expecting to wake up and it wasn't true? Yeah, me too. Well, it wasn't. Turns out I totally misunderstood. What was approved was for my proposal to be sent to the entire committee. So that means that Her Majesty My Dissertation Chair and the AD, Dr. Toosick, approve. I got approval from Much Beloved and Brilliant Second Reader and the external, Dr. BigName today. Not a bad gig overall. Still the last holdout is the consulting faculty. Hold your breath and send much positive energy her way to blind her to my faulty methodology in compassion for a poor specimen of mathematicus retardii.

Okay, back to the kids.

PS
Coffee mugs make great camouflage for red wine... ;oD

tags technorati : dissertation, bitching, statistics,

Just When I Thought It Was Safe

Okay, so (Queso? I love queso!) yesterday I needed to go the cleaners, 20 miles away, and while The Girl & I were out I took her out to eat lunch at Logan's since it will be the last time she has an opportunity to go out to lunch for quite awhile, as school starts Monday. We dropped by a craft store to pick up some gold leaf flakes for a soap I'm making this morning to draw abundance & prosperity when I got an email from my dissertation chair. She wanted to know where my final revisions are, since it's been over a month & all. Gaaaah! I told her that even though the rain has stopped and realistically I'm no longer celebrating, we've had a steady parade of people through here but I'll get it to her with lipstick next week. Gaah...

On a more interesting note, check out the new ebay widget that shows off my soapy lovelies!

Work Your Fingers to the Bone - Whadda You Git? Bony Fingers!

Not to worry, I haven't forgotten about y'all. Party #2, my best friend's wedding, will be held here Saturday and we're all working our collective tuchis-es off to get the place presentable for such a fete. The cool part is that it's mostly the stuff we usually do to get ready for our legendary annual 4th of July bash and it's really nice to have help. Suz, her beloved and her kids have been here every evening after work to mow, edge, weed-eat, wash windows, clean the fans that I'm too short to get to and generally put a spit-shine on the place. Between that, teaching and the endless errands that have to be taken care of in order to host back-to-back events with over 100 attendees each, I have barely had time to find my own ass - with both hands - much less natter on about anything. You should see the place though...it looks like a goddamn country club.

In other news, I had a long talk with my chair last week and she expects me to fluff up the discussion section of my dissertation by about 15 pages. I knew the discussion section was -ahem- a little light but I've found that just throwing it up against the wall to see if it sticks and letting them tell me what they really want has facilitated my progress better than anything else I've done. I'll be able to get to that after the wedding and in plenty of time for my defense but I'm still not that thrilled about having to do it. It's nice though to have specific suggestions for improvement.

My signet ring and academic regalia arrived Friday. The ring is nice but I was really jazzed about the cap, gown & hood because it makes the whole thing seem more real. However, they put the slit for clothing access on the right side of the gown, despite the fact that I custom-ordered it with the slit on the left - given that I'm a natural born lefty and all. I'm going to go ahead and wear it to my graduation but as soon as I get back home, it's going back to the company so they can fix it since I will need it for future academic events. The Girl asked me why I just didn't live with it. Naturally a right handed person would ask such a question, but I stand by my decision for them to fix it because: A) I am left-handed - (no, really!) and 2) I paid a $hitload of money to get academic regalia that was custom-made to my exact specifications. In addition to the monogrammed initials, those specifications included a left-hand slit - and it was on the paperwork in about 27 different places, with asterisks and all caps and everything so the people who sew it together would be made aware of it. Still didn't happen. Sigh. I really shouldn't complain about it because the customer service rep I spoke with on the phone is also a lefty, so she "got it," and I received the prepaid UPS tag today.

Okay, that's all I know right now. After I finish the last-minute stuff tomorrow, Suz & I are going to lounge poolside with many cold beers on ice with salt, we will be parked between the margarita machine and the kick ass blues band Saturday, and nursing something approximating a hangover on Sunday, so don't expect me back before Monday's CCC at the earliest.

Tha mo bhàta-foluaimein loma-làn easgannan

Yeah, so today's title means, "My hovercraft is full of eels," in Gaelic. Following the advice of my blog friend, the fabled ghostie hunter Romulus Crowe, I've decided to make my first trip to Europe a haunted tour of Scotland. Turns out Edinburgh is renowned as the most haunted city in the world. What fun! It will probably happen mid-to-late summer next year, but I'm going. Surprisingly, when I approached The Man about it, he said it sounded like fun, but getting him on the plane and away from his cattle & hay for 10 days may be another story. The Girl, on the other hand, is all over it, but then again she's always up for new experiences. There's still a lot of research for me to do before I land on an itinerary, but once I figure it all out and save a few ducats to pay for it, we're off. Today I even bought 4 travel guides that probably all say pretty much the same thing but that's okay, I'm going to Scotland! Any suggestions or advice is most welcome. Now if I can just find some kind of psychology conference to attend while I'm there so that I can write off part of the trip...

Oh yeah, I got so excited about travel planning that I almost forgot - my dissertation chair approved my last revision to be sent to the proofreader. Woohoo! That means I can start throwing dissertation-related crap (old articles, previous revisions, notes, graphs, statistical output, et cetera ad nauseum) away! The piles of loose paper in my office will be gone and it will look like an office again, not a heap of paperwork with burgundy walls. Life is guuuud.

Flying By The Seat of My Pants

This whole thing would all be so much easier and more readily comprehensible if I'd ever actually written a dissertation before. Nevertheless, I consider myself fortunate to be highly skilled at flying by the seat of my pants. The last couple of days have been crazy (and believe me, I know crazy - in the Biblical sense). I had a phone conference with Her Majesty My Dissertation Chair (HMMDC) yesterday to iron out a few details before I submit my next revision. A lot has happened since the last time we spoke, including the holidays, my teaching an undergraduate psychology course, a major national session for my school (which I didn't attend, but she did) and the death of my mother in law, but despite all of those things I've still gotten a lot done. HMMDC was a little peeved that I haven't kept her abreast of what I've been up to, but if neither of us is available, up-to-the-minute communication is difficult at best. All that aside, she was pleased with what I've gotten accomplished and she appreciates that I am as self-directed as I am.

During our conversation, HMMDC brought up a couple of issues. First, she thinks my new associate dean (the old one got a much better offer elsewhere - can't blame him for taking it) is a twit who tries to make things overly complicated for his dissertating students just for the sake of complicating things. This is a ginormous problem for both the amazingly smart, fabulous and wonderful HMMDC and myself because that type of thinking runs completely counter to ours and is part of why I picked her. Given that situation, she suggested that since Dr. New AD likes to "make his mark" on the dissertations he works on (read: piss all over everything), that now would be the time for me to seek his assistance on something trivial that I don't really care if he changes. He's already made it rather clear that he doesn't like the title, the table of contents or the order of presentation of the content without specifying what exacly he wanted to see, so there are promising areas there. HMMDC suggested that maybe if I seek his guidance in one of those areas, it would placate him before we get too deep into the process. I made preparations to do that, namely, "What would you like the title to be?" and "In what order would you prefer the presentation?" but haven't executed the request - more on that in a bit (film at 11).

The other issue brought up by HMMDC is that my exposure to the very small neuropsychology community is limited, consisting of my supervisor from the hospital, my second faculty reader (much beloved and brilliant Reader #2), and the other neuropsych faculty guy at my school, so I have not clue one whom to ask to be my external reader, since it's supposed to be someone affiliated with neither the school nor myself so none of those guys qualify. HMMDC advised me to consult Reader #2, who is a prominent (and have I mentioned brilliant?) neuropsychologist, and in the meantime she'd check with the geriatric psych folks she knows and we'd probably have somebody in a couple of weeks. Love love, kiss kiss, talk to you in 2 weeks, we were done.

That is, until about two hours later. HMMDC called me in a bit of a lather to inform me that she and Reader #2 had just been on the phone and this is what they had decided in the interest of getting me graduated: First, since graduation this summer will be in the same major city where my 80-something grandparents and many other extended family members live and I would like to walk at that time, they are putting a cattle prod to my ass to get me there in time and I should just buckle my seatbelt, hang on and shut the fuck up because it's going to be a bumpy ride - but we'll get there. I love a good challenge and am thrilled to be a blip on someone's radar at this point so I'm okay with that. Done is good. Done. Is. Very. Fucking. Good.

First things first, Reader #2 (whom I adore and have only the best, most wonderful glowing and gushy nice things to say about not only because of his brilliance as a clinician but his unwavering comitment to student advocacy) absolutely, under no circumstances, will ever Ever EVER work on a dissertation committee with Dr. New AD again. Period. Not really a problem because interestingly enough, ADs will be rendered unnecessary for dissertation committees as of the end of this month so HMMDC is going to ask for a special dispensation from the grand poobah of the school to ask if we can just go ahead and drop him now and either put someone else in that position or leave it empty, depending upon how many people the school wants on the committee. My vote is for leaving it vacant, because trying to get 2 academics to agree is easier than trying to get 3 to agree, and HMMDC and Reader #2 are already in agreement. Realistically though, I won't hold my breath because it's guaranteed that nooooobody from the adminisphere is going to ask for my input on the subject. In the interest of minimizing complications though, either way is still good news. Surely we can find someone to play nice and get me out.

The next thing, from which I am still reeling, is that HMMDC and Reader #2 agreed that since I will be using an archival dataset and already have approval from the hospital Institutional Review Board (IRB) to use it for my study, that I should go ahead and fill out the IRB exemption paperwork for our school. As in RIGHT FUCKING NOW, do not pass go, do not collect $200, and get it to HMMDC by 10am Pacific time this morning because they meet today. No pressure or anything. --Don't even ask. Anybody who knows me for more than 2 minutes knows damn well I got it in. I ended class early this morning because my lecture notes weren't fully prepared after being up all night doing that, but by Gawd, I got that IRB bullshit turned in, and with time to spare. I even watched American Idol first (you knew I would).

It probably goes without saying that I was pretty much a zombie this morning in class but the kids were excited to be released from my dungeon a little early and I got to come home and take a much needed and well-deserved nap, so that's a big ol' bonus.

Naptime over, I was just settling down into some good juicy revisions when my cell phone rang. Guess who? You guessed it: My NeuroNerd Hero, Reader #2. He wanted to be sure I was aware of his refusal to work with Dr. New AD (whom I've only met once when I read his tarot cards last summer). I told much beloved Reader #2 that as far as I am concerned Dr. New AD is expendable, but that his expertise as "Dr. Uber NeuroGuy" is not and assured him that we'd figure something out one way or another. I'm flexible, especially if it is to my benefit. As of the end of this month it will be a moot point anyway.

Next things next, Reader #2 proceeded to tell me that I should hire a statistics consultant asap to help me figure out the math part. Not to DO it for me, mind you, but to tutor me through the process, since I'm not a math nerd and all (although I play one on TV). I told him about the recent policy change I'd been emailed from the adminisphere about not receiving ANY outside help in the dissertation process. He got downright pissed and told me to send him the link and he'd get it changed. After all, an external reader is outside, right? So where do we draw the line? He said that not allowing a statistics consultant was tantamount to leaving the dissertating student floundering on the beach. I told him that although I've flourished and made a name for myself, the feeling of being left floundering on the beach pretty much sums up the bulk of my experience with the program for the last 6 and a half years, so what else is new? Of course now I can't find the link to the information but I know that's what it said among listing the punishments for such offenses, including but not limited to the rack, shoving glass shards under the fingernails or being forced to slide down a 20-foot razor blade into a pool of rubbing alcohol. We agreed that we didn't have that conversation, but he advised me to do it anyway after consulting with HMMDC and thank the stats consultant for the tutorials in the "thanks" page of the final document.

He then asked me about the revisions the school-based research person wanted to see in the next iteration of my proposal. He agreed with her suggestions but wants me to send everything to him before I send it anywhere else, a decision supported heartily by HMMDC. I can do that but it's going to take a couple of days since I've kind of butchered (read: really fucked up) the original document in trying to get to the revisions the research person wants to see. It takes time to unfuckup stuff, you know?

Okay, all that said...the coolest part besides hopefully getting out this summer is that Reader #2 knows a lot of the "Big Names" in neuropsychology and is having dinner with one of the biggest next week. Turns out Dr. Big Name owes much beloved Reader #2 a huge favor for saving his ass recently. Guess who's dissertation Reader #2 is going to ask him to serve as external reader? You know it baby - that would be mine - the Dissertation from Hell.

Yeah baby, I got it like that - by the seat of my pants. Good thing that's how I roll.