Treading Dangerous Waters

Here's the first of my stories from the back log. Over my spring break, many moons ago, I went to Major City where my boyfriend is currently employed. They have many museums there where I could theoretically find either employment or an avenue to continue a "life of the mind" as a post-academic and do my research.

I met with Big Wig at one of these museums to talk about working as an independent researcher there. Ze assured me they had no jobs and weren't planning on getting any soon. They were already operating at an absurd level of budget crunching as it was. The research thing seemed doable. Depending on the job, I could even volunteer there (you have to commit to a certain amount of time during the week) which would come with free membership and parking.

It all seemed potentially doable. Sure, there were constraints, but it wasn't out of the question to continue my research. I do actually enjoy research and teaching. I could still do it as a post-academic. The conversation got a little weird when Big Wig didn't know specifics about things ze should know but otherwise, all good things.

However, as I rode public transit back to my boyfriend's apartment, I got this gut feeling. Maybe it was all the posters advertising The Hunger Games on the trip but I got this feeling that I was treading very dangerous waters. It wasn't a niggling feeling where you think maybe something's off. It was full on, swimming-with-sharks feeling. Seriously, I felt like I could practically see the sharks. My instinct is shockingly good. It hasn't failed me yet, even when I've failed it.

I should point out this was not an instinctive "NO, DANGER!" feeling. My gut wasn't saying no, don't do this. It was more of an "Oh, by the way, there are large things swimming nearby with big, pointy teeth which may suddenly decide that you are crunchy and good with ketchup. Just an FYI. Try not to look weak or otherwise edible." No, my gut doesn't talk to me but that's a good idea of how the feeling was interpreted.

The meeting seemed like the usual awkward but good conversations nerdy academics find themselves in all too often. Nothing raised red flags. And yet I had this feeling of lurking danger in the whole escapade. I think there are three possible reasons for this:

1) I could just be paranoid. It's a fair possibility. Now that Fluffy is finished, the whole career change thing is a lot bigger and change is scary. It could just be fear. Except that my gut is usually not swayed by such things and this all happened before Fluffy was even half-drafted.

2) It could be a reaction to what keeping up with my research would entail. It means having to go out of my way to get access to journals on the cheap. It means giving up free time and possibly work time to collect and analyze data. It means that this is likely where any free time I gain from the real world would go. On the one hand, it wouldn't be that big of a change from academia: working all the time so that I can spend my free time researching. On the other hand, that defeats one of the reasons for leaving academia: free time.

3) There really could be something fishy going on here. The weird thing about gut reactions is that sometimes they seem to have more available info than you do. Maybe there was something in what Big Wig said, in hir body language, that gave away some serious issues that might come up to bite me if I followed through with this plan.

This feeling has only intensified since then and led me to abandon at least this avenue for continuing my research. Even now, if I seriously think about doing this, my gut responds with an ever increasing sense of danger. It's something specific to this particular situation.

I don't mean this to be a diatribe against maintaining those practices from leading a "life of the mind" that make you happy. Clearly, there are ways to do it. This is meant more of a caution to think about what continuing to do those things will do your new life. If you're in a field like mine, it means having to track down data in one form or another, possibly having to travel to get it. It means having to find a way to run statistics and, of course, to keep up on recent research in journals. These are not un-doable. They are highly inconvenient and expensive at times. I'm not sure I'm ready to walk back into a situation my gut tells me has a high probability of ending badly.

If this last academic job offer falls through (a likely scenario), I think I'll just rip off the bandaid and leave academia entirely. My instinct tells me this is the better plan for me. Of course, then it spirals into a self-loathing depression as it contemplates 9 years of sunk costs. Sometimes I think it may be either defective or mal-adaptive. I know, those costs are already sunk. No sense in raising the Titanic here. No one's going to make a major motion picture out of it. They probably wouldn't even look good in 3D. But I digress, frequently.

My rambling point is that I looked into keeping up with my research and it seems possible. Maybe not a good idea but a possibility nonetheless. But I think there are strings attached, at least for this particular scenario, and depending on your field, those strings could be made of razor wire. Proceed with caution but don't give up hope. And now, for your moment of zen...

If you need a laugh, Google image search "flying shark". This meme has legs...err, fins!

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

Can an Academic Job be a "Next Job?"

So, a VAP has come up in my field. It is a one, maybe a two year gig with a 4/4 teaching load. There will be a TT line offered for this position in two years but the department head freely (and honestly) admits that whoever takes the VAP may have a leg up for that line but no promises.

I'm considering applying for it. No, not because I think it'll somehow magically turn into a TT line. I want the job because of where it is. It's in a place I've wanted to live in since I was a child. My significant other still has at least a year and half before he's done with his residency in Major City. So, this seems like a good time for an adventure. For the curious, said significant other forwarded the job ad to me, so he already knows about it and was a little hesitant to send it, knowing my view of academia these days.

Granted, this job would require moving across the country and away from family. Most of my friends these days are academics, so spatial separation there is inevitable. And it would mean at least another year in a long-distance relationship, but that too is looking more and more inevitable too.

But the academic culture doesn't appeal to me so why, in the name of all things holy and unholy, would I consider applying? Because I want to live there, at least for a bit. I want that adventure. If I happen to add anything to my CV during that time, what a bonus. Yeah, no exclamation point there - read it deadpan, with a sarcastic twist.

Given my ambivalence (leaning towards bitterness) towards academia, a 1-2 year gig actually sounds appealing. If one or both parties decide we'd be better off separated, I finish off the contract and no hard feelings. It would also give me a more time to figure out what I want to be if I grow up...or at least which direction I'm heading off in. And I would have a better sense if my bitterness is due entirely to academia in general or just to spending the last near-decade in a dysfunctional department with an advisor who has turned into a despot.

Notice, I did not mention research or publishing in there. If you're paying me for a 4/4 load, that's what you're getting. If you also want me publish too, you either need to pay me a serious salary or I will laugh in your face. I research the cost-of-living differential and I know what my bills and student loans will be. When negotiating, it's important to know your bottom line. And unlike some of my colleagues, I know there's a life outside of academia and I'm not above just saying "(Oh Helllll) No" to an unacceptable academic offer.

Don't worry about the school. They'll get at least 30 applicants. On the outside chance that they actually want to hire me and can't afford me, some other poor desperate schmuck will take them up on the lowball offer.

It's just a personal thing. I feel like I should at least apply. I can at least say I tried and academia officially did not want what I had to offer. On the upside, I'm getting more confident in the idea that there's something better out there...and I could still do my research. But that's a story for the next post.

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.

This is gonna be interesting

A fellow student from my program is working with my advisor to get out the write-up from a project they worked on 6 years ago. I did some data analysis on part of it at that time for a class project. This student has warned me that my advisor may steal my work (the class term paper) and put his own name on it as first author.

I am a pretty decent writer. I am considered a subversive deviant. I am more technological literate than my advisor. Yes, I'm in the process of wiping out any trace of my work from every lab computer, back-up file, and external hard drive in all our labs. Yes, I would magnetize the CD with my paper on it if I could find it. Yes, I will raise hell if my work walks off without me.

This could get interesting. Stay tuned.