Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Frabjous is the word I'm looking for. Frabjous.

I have finished a draft of my dissertation, which means that I have 31 days to get a finished-looking draft to the graduate school for review, and 62 days to get the absolutely completed copy to my committee members, because I want to defend the sucker in 77 days.

Which means that in less than three months, if all goes well, I will be Dr. Froggy. (But still not a useful sort of doctor; just one that is entitled to wear all sorts of floofy velvet bars around on robes with belled sleeves. I'm really doing the PhD for the fashion possibilities.

(Also, Panda, if you're reading this, it may mean that your wedding will be the happiest weekend of my life . . . I hope you feel loved!)

Friday, January 23, 2009

Two Facts

1) I have been working on my dissertation morning, noon, and night (and am hoping for a complete draft as of Monday . . . or maybe Tuesday)

2) I took my computer to the Apple Store to check out some problems, and they informed me that the logic board was shot.

Coincidence? You decide!

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Good News!

1) We have a president I can think about happily.

2) I have a car window that will keep the snow off my neck.

3) I have only about 35 pages of new material to write for my dissertation. (There's a lot of revising, but I've almost got a complete draft).

Monday, January 19, 2009

I feel violated

My car was robbed this afternoon. It was parked on the street in a residential area; the window was broken and things were taken. In the daylight.

Not, you understand, the things that we would expect them to take. Sure, they got the empty purse from the glove compartment and the wallet out of the bag in the backseat, but nothing else. And reposing in my packet is my credit card, my debit card, my drivers license, student id, and costco card. They got my insurance cards (though the health one had expired, and the car insurance one has a replacement as of next week), my free haircut punchcard at Great Clips, $20 in quarters, $20 in bills and . . . oh, right: The History of King Richard III by Thomas More. Though of the four copies in the backseat, they chose one of the paperbacks. The one that I needed the most (it had my notes in it) but not the most expensive one.

What did they leave? I'm sure you want to know. 1) The Kitchenaid mixer I got for Christmas and need to return to get a color that I want and 2) my PASSPORT. Isn't there a good market for passports? My quick internet search told me that it was worth $10,000 to $15,000 on the black market. So they leave that and the expensive kitchen appliance, and take the book that has value to me, some things that often have value and in this case didn't, and my sense of security.

Also, it's really cold and I don't have a car window. This makes me sad.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Portland People! Pay Attention to Me!

To all our friends, near and dear, who live in Portland:

Leo and I will be visiting in June.

That is all.

Saturday, January 10, 2009


I've got six weeks to get a final draft of my dissertation to the Graduate School. This is neither right nor decent, but I'm just not going to be anywhere for the next six weeks.

Well, I'll be in the library. Come find me on the fourth floor! (Except don't, 'cause I might snarl and snap at you, or -even worse - make you read dissertation chapters).

Monday, January 5, 2009

With This I Have A Problem

Tonight, I came to a conclusion. I've never been fanatical about organic food; I had enough salt-less, sugar-less, home ground wheat what-have-you as a child to have made me perpetually leery of that whole culture. But tonight, I reached a breaking point.

My chicken had bigger breasts than I do.

I was planning to make a nice, quick, semi-Mexican dinner, and so I pulled a couple of chicken breasts out of the freezer and realized that I was holding more meat than I could even begin to imagine eating for one meal. We had one breast split between us, and it was a little more than enough.

What are they feeding these poor chickens? And why don't they give the same hormones to women that get breast implants? Can the chickens walk around comfortably, or do they suffer from back problems? Is there some way that we can organize a charity that will provide bras to chickens who have undergone this treatment?

Anyway, I'm going to start getting my chicken somewhere where the breasts are smaller and don't make me feel inadequate.