Holy Update Batman!

It's been awhile but it's been a bit crazy here. I've got a boatload of posts to put up. Let me start with the biggie:

Fluffy is vanquished!

Though I was prepared with an arsenal of Holy Hand Grenades of Antioch and an army of killer bunnies willing to protect the magic carrot, Fluffy died with a whimper, not a bang.

Let me back up briefly. Two days before my defense, I was doing a dry run of the presentation with my chair. Hir only suggestions for improvement were to add a few summary slides so that ze wouldn't have to pay attention the whole time. Just as ze was getting ready to leave, ze says that there are some people in the department who think I'm stubborn and willful and might try to put me in my place. Though I am both willful and stubborn, the only person who would attempt such a petty move would be my advisor. Yeah, I got threatened by my advisor two days before my defense because ze's passive-aggressive and petty.

I posted this threat on facebook and asked for suggestions for a response. Some serious, some funny. My personal favorite was from a family friend who suggested creepy late night phone calls full of vague threats. That seemed on par with the transgression and liked the image. No, I didn't do it but it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

The appointed time arrived. I was armored in a business suit and pumps. FYI: patent leather shoes with a broken big toe nail is really unpleasant. Anyway, I looked awesome, there was coffee, and several of my killer bunny army brought food. We discovered years ago that it is much harder for people to be arses if their mouths are full.

The presentation went well. Everyone laughed at the appropriate points. Important people nodded agreeably throughout. People had only those bizarre questions they come up with when they can't think of anything relevant. Folks got hung up on something that was utterly inconsequential but it made for easy questions. Most importantly, my advisor didn't get a chance to be an arse.

And then, that was it. It was done. Some revisions are needed. Papers were signed. The food was cleaned up and taken care of. Friends went out to lunch with me. And...well...that was it. Not with a bang at all. I went home and took a nap. This is apparently a typical ending.

I haven't really recovered from the stress. Some of that is due to going pretty much straight from the defense to a conference where I also gave a paper. And then there was a job interview there. But it hasn't kicked in yet that this whole escapade is over. Really. Seriously. I don't feel a thing. It's a little weird.

But that's why posts haven't been forthcoming. Hopefully soon I'll catch up on this backlog of posts. Here's some teasers for some upcoming ideas:

- Treading Dangerous (Psychological) Waters
- WTF! Where'd that interview come from?!
- Deciding When to Hold 'Em and When to Fold 'Em

Fluffy Update

I think I've recovered sufficiently from this episode to write about it. A little over a week ago, my committee was supposed to decide if my dissertation is defensible or not. The date was March 14, specifically.

Two days prior to this, my chair had the "sudden" realization that my committee needed to read my chapters. I use quotes because I have been reminding and pestering him to read them for two months. The ensuing panic resulting in two more of my committee members finally coming clean and admitting they hadn't read anything either. The fourth member had actually read and commented on several chapters. Two of the members refused to sign off on it until they read a few chapters. A mental breakdown began to boil.

Thankfully, the graduate secretary in our department has an in with a secretary in the Dean's office and was able to give my committee more time. This may have single-handedly staved off multiple murders on my campus. I doubt this is the first time ze's had to do so...or the last.

The committee finally agreed it was defensible 5 days later. Given the comments I've seen, I'm still not convinced they've read anything.

All the paperwork is in now. Fluffy is set for release on April 5th.

Happy Pi Day

Given the animation I have in lieu of a profile pic, I thought I should at least post again for Pi Day. That's right, it's time to celebrate being irrational!

I do think we need to celebrate the irrational in our lives more often. It'll keep you from taking yourself too seriously. So, in honor of the day, try to think of at least five things in your life that are illogical, irrational, or otherwise lacking in reason but make you happy. Here's some of mine:

1. I have a wind-up toy of a monkey riding a horse. This is my dissertation in a nutshell. It is currently sitting in the middle of a chess game being played between my house mammoth and wooden spider monkey. There's a disturbing amount of potential symbolism here.


2. My boyfriend is teaching me how to play the ukulele. He plays in a ukulele group. Yeah, 10-15 people get together in a tiny corner coffee shop and play ukuleles together. It's awesome. You should try it.

3. I am obsessed with getting a card game called Killer Bunnies. Your goal in the game is to take out other people's bunnies and protect the magic carrot. I think Fluffy would approve of this game and I really want to play it, post-defense, while drinking an immoderate amount of wine.

4. My dog is obsessed with tennis balls. We think he imagines by catching and hoarding tennis balls, he is somehow saving the world. Maybe he is. I don't know how the universe works.

5. I own a top hat. It sits in my living room, on top of my filing cabinet. I guess that means my filing cabinet also has a top hat. I bought it at the Renaissance Festival where I wore it to the smoking tent. The pirates put on a show there where they offered the best advice I've heard for grad school: "Get in! Get out! Quit F&$%ing about! Yo ho! Yo ho! Yo ho!"


Other new posts will be coming soon on such entertaining topics as a life of the mind after academia and can an academic job be a "next job." Stay tuned.

Update on Fluffy

Yes, I've named my dissertation Fluffy. See this previous post for a picture of Fluffy.

I was reading Recent Ph.D's post this morning on the love of words. Atrocious and obtuse writing is considered an ideal in certain parts of my field. I'm also willing to admit that my own writing has gotten significantly worse during my academic tenure. I'm known among friends and family for my ability to pack tons of stuff into a relative small volume. I apparently now do the same with clauses in a sentence. Is there a 12-step program for comma-addiction? I've mostly recovered from my affection for the semi-colon; however, I still occasionally relapse. On a related note, I thought I would send an update on Fluffy.

One (out of four) committee members have read a few chapters of Fluffy and made comments. These comments consisted almost entirely of rewriting my sentences so that they were "clearer" and "more academic." Yeah, I laughed too. Ze has changed every "so" into a "therefore" or "consequently" because those sound much more science-y in hir opinion. I haven't run the statistical test yet but I think the increase in semi-colons is significant. All this while wanting to delete sections that actually form important parts of various arguments because those are not hir field and ze wasn't interested in them. Maybe next round I should use the academic sentence generator and see if that makes anything "clearer." I suppose I should just be happy someone is reading it. Guess the rest of my committee is going for the surprise reveal at my defense.

Sorry posts are not getting any more regular. Fluffy sends its regards from the toxic genetics lab where it's being mutated into an even more hideous and fuzzy creature.

Wild Dreams

Dissertation update: Chapters 1-5 have been sent to the committee. They are now officially procrastinating over reading it. So, marginally more regular posting may or may not ensue. Sorry, I like to keep y'all guessing.

I'll admit to an absurd fondness for dystopic stories, in either written or cinematic formats. They don't even have to be particularly good stories, mediocre will work. Most recently, I watched The Island. It's actually not bad and is generally considered underrated entertainment.

If you haven't seen it, it's a story about clones being created and used for spare parts for the rich and famous. Two discover what's going on and escape. Eventually they come to realize that their clone friends are going to be killed and…well, I won't spoil it. Suffice it to say, there are enough sci-fi cliches involved that you could play cliche bingo with it. Good special effects though. Shiny. Colorful. Predictable. Not going to strain your brain if you need something flashy to watch on a Friday night.

There's a lot in the movie to work with if you use movies to start discussions in classes. You've got the ethics of cloning, questions of who gets to live and who dies, what does it mean to be human, and what does it take to regain one's humanity. Lots of deep thoughts and you get explosions to boot. It got me thinking about paths not taken, about how I miss a good story.

Good stories can be read all different ways. A group of people can read it and all find something different in it that resonates with them. I always wanted to write such stories. Stories of complex characters, none entirely good or evil, just people with their own agendas trying to survive in a complex world not of their own design. Recently, I've entertained the idea of writing a dystopic novel of academia. It wouldn't take much imagining, it's pretty dystopic as is. A novel where perceptions and expectations do not match reality, of the prices and consequences of hard choices.

What would you do if you lost everything and ended up in a place worse than any you had imagined, only to find that it may be the one route that offers true freedom? What if you got all you could hope for, only to find it a prison where you were both guard and inmate? What if your identity was built on your self-reliance only to find that your life hinged on the kindness of strangers?

I cannot write good stories of life and death struggles, the quest for civil freedom, or a life of hardship. I have not experienced those things and feel such stories should come from those who have. I cannot speak to the emotion and power of such trials. Those who have should be given a voice. I honestly believe that knowing such stories, seeing the worst and the best of our species, would make us all better human beings.

I can write of smaller struggles though. I used to be good with words. With a little practice, I think I could again write of the small victories in everyday life, of the emotion of silence, of our ability to deceive ourselves, of losing pieces of ourselves and the price we must pay to re-member them.

The last nine years took a lot from me. But it gave me a lot too. It gave experience, if not always a life. I think if I were to write again, the words would be better. They would do more. Stories bring us hope. Maybe my words can one day bring hope to people. To know that whatever situation they've gotten themselves into, they can survive it and find a way out. That's the kind of story I want to write someday.

There are two chapters left to write in the dissertation. Then I can begin the hunt in earnest for a job that'll leave me with the mental energy to write. Good luck to all the post-acs out there hunting in earnest already. May what you find far exceed your expectations.

Law of Dissertating Inertia

It's been awhile since my last post. I figured that out by looking at the date on that post today. Yeah, I know - it's obvious. However, it's just after the holidays where I did absolutely nothing productive and it's taking some time to start thinking again. Don't judge me! The whole situation reminds me of the law of inertia.

You read that right. It's the law of inertia: a grad student in motion tends to stay in motion while one at rest tends to stay at rest, unless an external force is applied. Click here for a description of this for comic fans. Well, this grad student has been at rest for awhile. A long while. Alas, this must change.

As per the events of my last post, I've been looking into a career in R&D. I like the idea. I enjoy research and discovery. I also enjoy being employed and having free time. R&D appears to be better aligned with such ideals than academia is. See any of the blogs to the right for a multitude of views on work/life balance, the crappy academic job market, or lack of intellectual freedom. Though R&D seems to be a better job market than academia, I have a nontraditional Ph.D. (read not STEM) and will likely have to take a more guerilla job search approach. Since that can be time consuming, I'm rabidly trying to finish my dissertation draft before the semester starts.

On a fairly random tangent, I like the word "rabidly" for describing dissertating. Such an activity should automatically conjure up a sort of unhealthy, foaming-at-the-mouth image. It really is a pointless exercise. Even as I'm writing my diss, I know it is unlikely to ever to be read or to be worthy of another's time. And that's before my committee gets there teeth in it.


I firmly agree with Einstein that if you cannot explain something simply, you do not understand it well enough. As a result, I can explain my entire dissertation research in under 150 pages (I think - I haven't finished it yet). The last two dissertations that passed in my department were ~250 and ~300 pages respectively. I really don't want to fluff my dissertation to such a bloated state just to satisfy faculty egos. I'm not going into academia anyway. Only in academia could you get a final product that is both dense and fluffy. "Fluffy" is used here to mean light and lacking in substance while "dense" refers to something that is impenetrable, for those who need definitions of everything. Let it be transparent! Let it be substantial! Let it NOT be painful!

Anyway, that's what I'm doing when I'm not posting. I'm hoping to defend by March 16th, mostly because I'd like a really good reason to be really trashed on St. Patty's day. Since I'm not adverse to drinking any other day of the year, I feel like I should have a reason to do it on St. Patty's day. You know, it makes it "special" that way. So, I must finish this beast and allow the faculty to begin their shredding of it. I'm sure there will be at least two rounds of revisions before all is said and done.

Wish me luck in my endeavor. I wish you luck in yours, whether it is leaving academia, finding a job, or otherwise maintaining what's left of your sanity. Cheers to us all!