random bullets of crap


  • This has made me laugh every time I’ve looked at it:

Clearly, making me laugh OR cry lately is super easy.

  • I *think*–fingers crossed that he doesn’t get a last-minute email–that GB will actually be off tomorrow and Saturday. This will be amazing. He hasn’t had a day off in about 19 days.
  • As mentioned, GB’s mom and Aunt B. (not that Aunt B.–though, That Aunt B., you’re welcome to visit too) are coming here tomorrow morning. I am very excited about this, too. It’s been lonely here, and I’m totally looking forward to eating, playing board games, and watching GB and Aunt B. drink.
  • Holy fucking god do I miss drinking.
  • How awesome is this “coffee and cigarettes” ring?Seriously, I love it. At one point in my life, I would not have hesitated more than half a second before buying this for myself. Now, not so much–not sure I need to be reminded of vices I no longer have–but I still think it’s awesome.

  • The word meter continues to move. I am almost done with a rough, awful draft of this chapter. At some point along the way I lost track of what the chapter’s about, and right now I think it absolutely sucks. But I only have one more (probably short, it’s looking like) section to write, and I can call it a first draft. I think I’ll have to send this one off to the Advisor without much (any?) editing, too….Which is unfortunate. But having drafts done–even shitty ones–feels good.
  • I have a belly. At first I thought it was the cookies catching up to me, but I really can see it now–it’s definitely starting to be a baby-belly. I don’t think anyone else can see it–I think I still just look fat–but I can totally tell. GB says he can too (“kinda”), but I think he’s just being nice.
  • While I was writing this a box came from my sister. You’ll recall that My Sister the Vet was kind enough to have her first baby last November, thereby ensuring that my nephew is out of all of his first-year clothes in time for our baby to benefit. So my sister and my mom packed up a bunch of my nephew’s outgrown clothes and sent them off to us. It’s really sweet of them–a lot of this stuff still has the tags on. Still…can you guess my snarky first reaction, on unpacking the box (aka The Great Big Box of Blue)?:

If you guessed “Damn, now I really hope we have a girl,” you’ve been reading my blog.

(My sister is fabulous, though. Can you see the tiny Santa outfit in the top left corner? My nephew was born a month before last Christmas.)

  • I found out this morning that the deadline for the fellowship application is not January 4th (as it was last year), but Feb. 15th. Holy shit! That gives me an extra six weeks! I still plan to have this chapter done by the 17th and off to the Advisor before we leave for the in-laws’, but at least the huge pressure is off.
  • I’m trying to decide whether to apply for another fellowship for next year. I think I probably will, but it makes me very anxious. The one I’ve been talking about is an internal fellowship, at through the grad school–it would give me enough money to live on next year while finishing the diss, but doesn’t allow me to do any teaching (which is, honestly, completely fine with me; I have no teaching here anyway, and would love to take the year to finish the diss and hang with the Buzzlet). This other one, though, would require a tiny bit of teaching (just one class and a colloquium), and would give me about the same amount of money (a little less, actually). BUT. It’s at my #1 University I’d Like to Teach At, which could potentially open up awesome opportunities. Thing is, it’s not in my field–it’s in my subfield (which I’m not emphasizing much lately), so I’m not sure that I can make it sound like my diss is relevant to this field. (I could, but it would be a stretch.) The other thing is that we’d need to move again–the U. the fellowship is at is about 2 hours north of here (less than an hour from GB’s parents/grandparents, which would be nice, too). But damn, this is the U. I would give up a (superfluous) body part to get hired at….I should at least apply for this fellowship, right? Yeah. I thought so. Anyway, that deadline is a lot sooner.
  • Damn, that was a long bullet.
  • I am going outside to KICK SOME LANDSCAPER ASS. Holy fucking shit. The sound of that weed-wacker is like nails on the chalkboard of my brain. And clearly, the person running it has no idea how it actually works. I can’t take much more of this.
  • Should I just go out and get some lunch early? Probably, huh? Maybe they’ll be gone when I get back…
  • I am groggy. I submitted the chapter and then napped for…well over an hour. Maybe two hours.
  • I woke up, looked at the references and sources I was thinking about adding to the chapter before I sent it to The Advisor (but didn’t), and really, really regretted not adding them. I am now convinced his response will be, “You giant slacker.”
  • Whatever. At least I finally got a chapter to him.
  • I’m having one of those days where there is not enough food in the world for me. And I need to go grocery shopping. This is not going to be pretty.
  • Partly, it’s not going to be pretty because–as always–GB has the car. Which means I need to walk to the grocery store (not far, maybe 1/2 a mile) and back–with all the groceries. Needless to say, this limits how much I can buy.
  • I need one of those folding metal cart things, but I never remember that I need one when I’m at a place that sells them.
  • I don’t really feel like I can get this next chapter done in the next three weeks. It would be nice if I actually knew what it was about. I have a detailed outline, but it seems to me that what I have here is not really what the chapter is “about”. This could be tricky.
  • Also, in case it hasn’t already become abundantly clear, holy crap do I work slowly.
  • We see a different doctor at our next visit, on the 27th. There are five (six?) doctors at my OB’s practice, and they make a point of having you meet with all of them before your due date–so I will (theoretically) have at least some familiarity with whoever ends up being my delivery doctor. This is fine, but I’ve recently become obsessed with the worry that the doctor we’re seeing next time will not be quite as liberal with the ultrasound as our regular doctor. And I have my heart set on finding out the li’l parasite’s sex at the next visit. I do not want to wait another month. Why? Certainly not so I can buy appropriately-colored carseats. I’m just really freaking impatient.
  • If I can’t find out the sex at the end of this month, I worry that I will be sorely tempted to shell out the money for a private “gender determination” ultrasound.* Just because I’m curious. And I don’t want to do that, because I’m already thinking I’m going to want to shell out the money for a 3D ultrasound (like this, for instance) at some point down the road (see above re: curious), and there’s no freaking way I can justify that twice.
  • Everyone who’s ventured a guess–that would include, so far, GB, GB’s mom and dad, my mom, and my sister–is absolutely certain that we’re having a girl.
  • I still have no feeling one way or the other on this. But last night I did have my very first dream about the baby. It’s kind of too bad, because I’ve been having these crazy, vivid, disturbing dreams every single night, but last night’s dream was not very vivid, and now it’s hard to remember. Unlike the other dream that had a baby in it, in this one I was positive that this baby was my baby. And it was, in fact, a girl. And it had a name, I’m pretty sure. The name I remember calling her in the dream was one that I like, but that is very close to my own name–like, the same first few letters. And I just don’t think my ego is large enough to give my daughter a variation of my name.
  • Plus, we’d have the same nickname, and there’s no good in that, since my nickname is the name everyone uses for me, anyway.**
  • I’m concerned that working on this next chapter is going to make me want to do more fieldwork. I just don’t think I have enough data to support this chapter. The thing is, I don’t really have anything else to back it up, either…Let’s see if I can explain this with an analogy. Let’s say that the group that I’m writing my dissertation on does this thing where they race chickens. Most other groups that are like them don’t race chickens, and they’re a small-ish and not-so-studied group, so there’s absolutely no scholarly research on chicken-racing. There’s some discussion by people within the group about chicken racing, and that’s good, but there’s not much, and it will only get me so far. There’s another group that’s in the same (large, not sub-) genre as my group, but much, much, much larger (one might say, world-dominating), and they do a thing where they race…let’s say, giraffes. Chicken-racing bears on ly a vague similarity to giraffe-racing; in a way, the first is self-consciously modeled on the second, but they’re very, very different. I’m worried that the only way to discuss chicken-racing (the subject of this chapter) is by talking about how it’s NOT like giraffe-racing. But I don’t think that’s very theoretically sound (for a lot of reasons, but I’ll let you off the hook and not tell you what they are, since I’m sure you’re already confused). I have some data on chicken-racing; I’ve seen a few, and I have transcripts of other races. But I just don’t have much to go on.
  • Ow. That last one gave me a headache. And I really do have to go buy some groceries…dammit! I’m still in my pajamas! Okay. Enough randomness for now.
  • ETA: Actually, I checked. There are almost 20,000 hits on Google for “chicken racing” (uh, with the real term, I mean.) So, yeah, people in the group like to talk about it. Does this help me? I’m thinking not so much.

*Don’t even get me started on the phrase “gender determination.” The ultrasound can determine the sex. The gender isn’t determined until much later, and I am not going to participate in the gendering of the kid before it’s even born.

**Except for those of you who call me by completely different names that sound somewhat similar but just, really, aren’t. (Hi, Skycat & Yogini!)

  • The Christmas tree is making me very happy.
  • The cats puking up fake Christmas tree needles are making me less happy.
  • The weather is just wrong. I know–that’s why people move here. I’m actually surprised by how grumpy I am about the warm weather.
  • Fortunately (?), pregnancy has given me freezing feet all the time, so at least I can wear slippers all day. Even if the weather is in the 70s and relentlessly sunny.
  • We’re 12 weeks pregnant today! I’m psyched to finally be closing in on the second trimester, when apparently it’s okay to tell people we’re pregnant. This is good, because I’m pretty sure that everyone we know already knows.
  • I seem to have more belly today. I’m fairly sure it’s lemon-muffin-belly and not baby-belly. I’m looking forward to being able to blame the baby for the belly. I’m thinking that should happen soon.
  • Clearly, you can see why my top priority today has been adding things to our online registries (rather than doing any actual work). I haven’t told any family members about the registry yet (since, right, we’re only at 12 weeks, and no one has asked), but I am secretly (?) enjoying them.
  • In between putting the bead garland on the tree (ooh! shiny!), updating the registry, and eating eating eating, I have managed to do a smidgen of work. I’d say I’ve written about a page. I’d hoped to do more today, and I still have hope to get more done….
  • There seems to be a glaring hole in my research. Or, rather, there seems to be a glaring hole in THE research about a topic that is central to my dissertation. Which, in a way, is good: new ground,  and all that. But also, not so good: I really should be able to cite *someone* talking generally about this topic, and I cannot figure out who or what that would be. I’m fairly certain there is no generic research on the topic, and I’m finding that annoying. And also, I’m not feeling so much like I want to hunt the (potentially nonexistent) research down.
  • How was that for a cryptic bullet?
  • I think I have to go buy stuff to make green bean casserole, since it’s the one thing I needed to eat for Thanksgiving and didn’t get.
  • GB is probably taking tomorrow off from work. Yippee! I think there’s a Target ornament-buying run in our Sunday plans.
  • I’m psyched that he’ll be home tomorrow (hopefully, unless he gets all motivated to work)–he’s planning on working the next ~3 weeks straight. That would be 11 hours a day, every day (well, 7 hours on Sundays), for 19 days. I think he’s insane and will need a day off in there somewhere. At the same time, the idea of being able to pay rent (months of rent!) is very, very exciting.
  • That’s probably enough randomness for now. More randomness coming at ya later.
  • I still can’t believe I did the Big Damn Conference completely sober. I’m feeling kind of proud of that, but I repeat: never again.
  • Fancy-Ass Conference Hotel overcharged me every day of my stay. I spoke to multiple people about this, and yesterday I spent about an hour standing at the front desk while they tried to figure out what to do–it was on a debit card, so apparently they couldn’t just give me my damn money back. Whatever. Long story short: I rode home on the Greyhound last night (my original plan, though now funded by mom) with 50 cents in my pocket and a very large negative balance in the checking account.
  • As of today it seems that the negative balance thing might be fixed…fingers crossed.
  • I came home to discover that GB’s very late paycheck from his last job had arrived. Can you say “nick of time”?
  • GB started work yesterday at a temporary contract job that pays enough for us to actually live on. The job is only for about a month, but they’re offering him *lots* of overtime. Which is great.
  • Although this means we’re staying here for Thanksgiving, since GB will be off on Thursday, but working Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday…
  • I miss him already.
  • The meeting with the Advisor went much better than expected. Not only did he not break up with me–he was very nice about how difficult the move’s been, very supportive of the baby thing (I played the pregnancy card early in the conversation), fine about my plans to push finishing back to 2009, and pretty much okay with the fact that I *still* haven’t sent him a damn thing. He thinks that forging ahead with the Press thing is a good idea, too–though he did ask that I please send chapters to him before I send them to the editor. Seems fair enough.
  • For my presentation, I wore black pants, a black jacket, and a kind of lavender-y shirt in some kind of slinky synthetic blend. I think I looked pretty good. Thanks for all the help on that.
  • And, like I said, not passing out was an awesome achievement.
  • Okay. I should work. This is my first day having the house to myself all day…and so far I’m not doing so great with it. Will I get ANY work done today? We’ll see….
  • Seriously. One of those moods where I’m like a tiny dog biting the air.
  • GB is driving me crazy, doing exactly the same things he always does. Poor GB. And grrrrrrrr.
  • I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning. I’m hoping we get to see the heartbeat, for real, this time. Because I am a complete bundle of anxieties right now that Something Is Wrong.
  • I have no reason for this feeling.
  • Yes, I know it’s a completely normal feeling. That doesn’t help and I find that more patronizing than comforting right now.
  • See? Bad mood.
  • I thought I’d feel a little better when we got past 8 weeks. I don’t, though.
  • I feel the same way about 12 weeks. But I’ll probably be a big neurotic freak then, too.
  • Is anyone in my household ever going to make any money? I mean, literally *any*?
  • I got sad news today from a very old and very dear friend who is at the beginning of what will probably be a very dark period in their life. My heart is heavy in sympathy, and my head is all lost in nostalgia.
  • I also found out today that I’ve had a paper proposal accepted for a regional conference in the spring. Which is good, I guess–clearly this is my year for Doing New and Scary Things. But now I guess I need to write that one, too.
  • Season 1 of Heroes? Was awesome. We binge-watched them all through Netflix (the “watch instantly” thing–very handy), and were excited to catch up to the new season. This new season? Holy hell it’s bad. The only thing I can figure is that, at the end of season one, they discovered that their viewing audience was actually all under the age of 14, and now they’re targeting the dialogue toward them. And the writing is just fucking sloppy. I’ll keep watching–tonight will be the first one we’ll actually watch as it airs–but I’m not optimistic.
  • I miss Buffy. And Six Feet Under. And other shows that didn’t assume that I’m a hormonal 14-year-old.
  • Just to clarify: I’m a hormonal 36-year-old. Totally different.
  • Ugh. Enough crap for one post. Feel free to tell me something good in the comments.
  • We made it to the west coast! We’re settling in (TEMPORARILY) with GB’s family. We have a great space here–a suite-ish room, big enough that neither we nor the cats feel super crowded, with our own bathroom!
  • Still–keep reminding me not to get TOO settled, huh?
  • We had a Guilt-Mart shopping spree today.  We bought a microwave and a coffee maker (so we really never have to leave our room here). And snacks.
  • I had a few glasses of wine while we all played cards, earlier. I’m having another glass now. GB’s grandpa drinks (and keeps well-stocked on) cheap jugs o’ wine. I like it.
  • GB’s job-hunting begins tomorrow. For reals. Fingers crossed that GB gets an awesome job really, really fast.
  • I tipsy-dialed Bad Idea a little while ago. I know he’s at the bar without his phone right now, but I thought I’d leave a tipsy-dial message anyway. I’m having complicated emotions about the whole Bad Idea thing lately. I expect I’ll blog more about this soon.
  • I can’t get pho in the town we’re in now. That should be enough to inspire us (well, me) to get an apartment and get the hell out of here, fast.
  • GB and I had a total rockstar night in Kingman, Arizona. A fairly decent hotel room, a bottle of vodka, great music on the iPods, a meteor shower, and drunk rockstar sex. I refrained from throwing the TV out the window, but just barely. We were on the first floor, so it wouldn’t have been very impressive anyway.
  • I love that GB and I can have a fabulously fun day of driving and a ridiculously fun night hanging out at a La Quinta hotel, despite being on our third day straight of driving with four cats in the car. GB fucking rocks.
  • You know who else rocks? My sister, the Super Freaking Cool Veterinarian (who needs a pseudonym. I’m going to call her Hope, for now, until/unless I think of something better…though it works, I think, on a few levels). While we were visiting her and my mom in Home State, she did an enormous amount of bloodwork on the Small Cat and gave us some hefty sedatives to dope up Big Orange (who is so, so, so not a good traveler). Seriously, she took our potentially hellish and suicide-inducing trip and turned it into a comfortable one all around. My sister rocks.
  • I got an email from the Wrangler tonight informing me that we are no longer friends. It wasn’t completely unwarranted; I found out something awful about the Li’l Wrangler on Sunday, and sent the Wrangler a (righteously) pissed-off text message, and he sent this back tonight. I’m not upset about not being the Wrangler’s friend anymore. I’m more upset that I couldn’t send him a text-message-bomb, honestly.
  • I’ve been chatting with CRSE for the past hour while attempting to write this, and I got a lot of the randomness out of my system. So I think I’m done here for now. You can take it up with her if you have issues with the abrupt ending of these RBOC.

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