A Year in Review

I hate 2013. 

There, I said it. It's the end of the year and I'm not at all sorry to see it go. It's been the worst year of my life.

Let's look at my resolutions for the year, shall we? First up, finish my dissertation. Nope. Not even close on that one. Next up, find a job or post-doc. What is the point? I'm not even close to finishing, so why waste my time on the job search? Then there was the goal of reading 52 new books this year. Umm...I think I read ten or twelve. Maybe. I did read Pride and Prejudice twice (again). Reading for pleasure got preempted by the dissertation and stress and worrying over Dewey. Finally, there was the ever-lofty "take better care of myself" goal. Ha. I did yoga maybe twice this year, but I did lose thirty pounds. Then Dewey got sick and I ate my feelings the past three months because it was better than crying constantly, but I did that, too. I told you I was bad at resolutions. Maybe 2014 will be better resolution-wise.

I'm trying to pinpoint what exactly was so horrible about this year and I don't think it was any one thing necessarily, but a compilation of a whole lot of crap. 

Certainly, this wasn't a great year for teaching. Only teaching one class over the winter semester was terrible. It wrecked all the progress I'd made on my giant pile of grad school debt and seems to have cost me my best friend because I couldn't afford to go to her wedding in the Bahamas. We haven't talked since June and, before that, it was pretty strained, although I thought it was getting better. Then she didn't call or even text me for birthday, so I guess it was more strained than I realized. This semester was a really rough semester for teaching. I had one class that was great - good students (some not so good, too), good chemistry - and one class that started horribly, but picked up towards the end for some of the students. I just think 8:00 classes shouldn't exist. Trying to get this class to do their work, much less talk about it, was worse than pulling teeth. The number of students that failed the class is shocking, but it's impossible to pass them when they didn't do the three major assignments. Accepting that was difficult.

More difficult was losing three dogs this year. Winnie, technically my uncle's dog, but she grew up at my parents' house, with Dewey when they were puppies. She was Dewey's girlfriend and mother to the adorable duo of Princess and Tank. Then we lost Tank the day before my birthday. I thought that was horrendous, but I wasn't in any way, shape, or form prepared for what was to come - saying goodbye to Dewey. I dreaded it for years, since his first diagnosis with cancer, but November 25th was the worst day ever. Or maybe it was November 26th, when I woke up without him for the first time. 

I know he is not in pain anymore and that's what matters and I know that it gets easier over time, but living without him is hard. Every day there has been something that has reminded me of him, of how much my life revolved around him. It's been four weeks and there hasn't been a day that I haven't looked for him or called for him or wanted to hug him. I also realize I sound like a lunatic, but I'm hoping you won't judge. It was just me and him for a long time and those years were some of the toughest of my life.

Until this year. I can't wait to say goodbye and good riddance to this year.

Routines and Ruts

You know the kind of semester where you feel like you are constantly getting your ass kicked? The semester that is simultaneously flying by and the longest semester of your life?

That's my semester. I've had bad semesters before, but this one, well, it takes the cake.

I was supposed to finish my dissertation this semester. It's mid-October and I can't remember the last time I actually had a moment or took a moment to even open up a chapter file.

I can't get it together. I can't keep up with the work. This was supposed to be an easy semester. Two sections of the same class that I've taught before and don't really need to prep much. Except there is a lot of prep because the chair doesn't want us to lecture much and wants us to design all these fantastic lesson plans to really reach students on multiple levels that lectures just can't reach. I didn't lecture much to begin with because I prefer activities and discussions and blah, blah, blah, but when your students don't read, it's really hard to get any sort of discussion going because they don't have the basic knowledge required to participate in that discussion. When they don't read, it's really hard to have a successful activity of any sort because, for instance, they can't defend a side in a mock Scopes trial when they don't know who Scopes was and they can't lobby President Wilson for or against the Espionage Act when they don't know what the Espionage Act is or who Wilson is or that there was a giant freaking war of epic proportions taking place.

I can't get into a routine and I need one. It's mid-October and I am stuck in a rut of just barely getting grading finished in time or just barely writing that exam before class or just barely prepping before class or whatever. I am losing my mind.

I need a routine. I like a routine. I don't know how I lost my routine, but I did and I can't seem to get back to it. I miss my routine! I miss having free time. I miss reading blogs to relax or commiserate or just catch up with people that I've met along the way in a million different writing groups. I miss writing groups! I miss College Misery and Jane B and Historiann and Amstr and Bardiac and Notorious PhD and everyone else whose name I didn't mention because it's 12:30 in the morning and I still have 20 test essays left to grade and my brain is fried. FRIED.

Here's my promise to myself: tonight I finish those tests. Tomorrow I grade their multiple-choice (hurrah!) quizzes and fill out the evaluations for the football players and finish grading their blog posts, which I'm actually on top of, surprisingly. Then I get to take a nap and, when I'm all refreshed from a delightful nap cuddled up with Dewey, I'm going to sit down and work out a weekly schedule (including time for yoga and all the annoying little things that crop up and suck up so much time - I'm no fool). After that, I get wine. Lots of wine. And I get to catch up on some blogs. And I get to go to sleep as early as I want. I'd put my money on 8:30, if anyone was taking bets.

I will have my routine and I will stick to it or else this vein is really going to explode and I don't have health insurance (or Medicaid yet), so that would be a problem.

Ok. Back to grading. *sob*

Vive la France!

Oh, Paris. So much to say and I don't even know where to begin. Don't worry, you won't get all the details of my entire nine days there. I'll stick to the highlights, I promise!

First, the conference and the entire reason I was there: it was strange, but went well in the end. You know those conferences where it seems as if there are two groups attending - the grad students and the established academics? It was like that. Even at the banquet we had two "kiddie" tables of grad students and one prof at each of those tables. It was really hard to mingle the two groups together. Most of the profs kept to their group, unless they knew one of us grad students, at which point they might talk to us for a bit and then scurry back to their group. It was kind of strange. Some of the other students were saying that they felt really uncomfortable trying to approach the profs because, as always, grad students tend to feel like we have nothing to offer in establishing a relationship with a prof and that the prof is always thinking that we want something from them, when really, a lot of times, it's just a matter of hero worship, perhaps with a bit of wanting ideas from them, too. I'm (too) far enough along to let that bother/stop me anymore, but even I found it a little intimidating to try to talk to some of them because of this gaping divide between the groups.

I presented during the last panel on the last day, which is never ideal, but was fine. The question session for our panel got monopolized by an exchange between one of the panelists and an audience member, to the point where the moderator made the decision to end the session in order to stop the exchange from getting more heated. It wasn't terribly heated, but neither side was backing down and the moderator wanted to avoid a train wreck, basically, which was a good idea. That left me with no questions asked at all, so I really was clueless as to how my paper was received. They laughed at the funny bits I put in and clapped at the end, but was it the compulsory clap everyone dreads? I didn't know. It turned out not to be a compulsory clap, as I had four or five profs come up to immediately afterwards and tell me that they liked my paper, thought I had a great avenue for further research, suggested some secondary sources to help frame my work for the next step, etc. One prof, who I've known for a few years but have fallen out of touch with, even went so far as to say how impressed he was not just with the topic and the research, but with my delivery and that I really kept people's attention, even without a dreadful PowerPoint (the speaker after me had an impressive slideshow and I did not - not much to show, really, and I don't like pointless PowerPoints), and even made them laugh. A few of these profs are on the board of the JST, so now they know me and my work and I'm hoping that helps when they get my fellowship application next year. That was the whole point of going to this conference, after all.

So, the fun stuff: oh, the churches! And pastries! And wine! And food! I don't know where to begin, so I'll just show you some pictures.

Best meal (fondue and wine after the conference ended):

Favorite Versailles picture (that's right, I'm driving a golf cart around the grounds):

Favorite Louvre picture (I was more impressed with the architecture than some of the fan favorites because fighting the crowds to see the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, and The Lacemaker - while worth it - was exhausting and annoying and I had to leave after only a few hours there or someone was going to get stabbed):

Favorite of-course-this-would-happen-to-me moment (getting stuck in a canal lock for 45 minutes while on a canal tour because someone cut a wire overnight and the lock was broken and a specialist had to be called to repair it WHILE we were in it):

Favorite church (oh man, this one is hard, but I'm going to go with St. Etienne du Mont partly because I had to work so hard to get in there as it had hours that conflicted with my schedule - the nerve!, though Sacre Coeur, St Paul et St Louis, St Pierre, and so many more make it really hard to chose):

Favorite random place we decided to visit (the police museum because it had a guillotine blade used during the Revolution):

Favorite attraction overall (again, this is tough, but I'm going with the Opera Garnier because the guided tour was fantastic, it is stunningly gorgeous, and, not least, I love the Phantom of the Opera)

Just look at the ceiling by Chagall! Parisians hated it at first, but I loved it. It's an ode to the glory and beauty of Paris and music and dance - how could you not love it? (The picture doesn't do it justice, so don't judge it by this!)

Did I mention I love the Phantom of the Opera? I really, really do.

Ok, that's it for now. I have a dissertation to write!

Absence, Illness, and Heartache

Some of you may be wondering where I've been lately; it's been a couple of weeks since I posted anything, after all. Some of you may be grateful for the quiet, though, in which case, please don't tell me!

To make a long story short, I've been sick with some sort of mystery illness that lasted about a month, but finally, finally. I'm pretty sure it was bronchitis, though I can't be certain because I don't have health insurance and can't go to the doctor or get a prescription unless I am near death. I felt sick enough for long enough, though, that I decided to skip DHSI in the interest of getting better and also not infecting everyone on my plane and at DHSI. You are welcome, people. It was miserable not going, since I've been looking forward to it for over a year and I kept thinking about how much money I lost because I can't get reimbursed for my travel award without a boarding pass. It was the right thing to do, but it sucked. Instead of getting my DH geek on, I slept for 16-20 hours every day for five days straight and followed along on twitter when I could stay awake. I know, I know. I should have gone to the doctor. I feel almost totally better now. Almost.

The dissertation is in bad shape, though, thanks to the mystery illness. I'm behind with one chapter and I have another one due at the end of the month. I basically need to finish two chapters in two weeks. That would be hilarious if it wasn't so awful.

Speaking of awful, the reason that I'm writing this at 5:00 a.m. is that the day I've dreaded for months now finally came and we had to say goodbye to Tank today. You might remember Tank's drama that I wrote about in March. I can't remember if I later wrote about how he actually had some sort of cancer in his bloodstream that attacks organs over time, but he did. For the past week or so, he stopped eating breakfast and eventually just picked at his dinner and acted very tired. We took him to the vet Monday, hoping it was just an infection, but knowing it wasn't. I had to take him to the vet because I was off, but my mom met me there because she's a control freak when it comes to the dogs. However, my dad's car was there, too, which immediately led to hysterics on my part (I'm not ashamed to admit it, I completely lost it) because I was afraid they wanted to put him to sleep right then and there, even though he was still happy, moving around, and eating. Fortunately, that didn't happen; the control freak just wanted my dad there in case it was necessary. The vet did warn us that it was only a matter of time and not much time at that. Wednesday we decided to put Tank to sleep Thursday night, but he didn't want to get out of my bed in the morning, even to go outside or to get a drink. He was in really rough shape, so I decided we should reschedule for as soon as possible, despite wanting to hold him and pet him and give him cuddles for as long as possible.

I really am glad he isn't suffering any more (I'm trying to be an adult about this!) and that I got to a point where I could admit it needed to happen, but today is my birthday and the only thing I want is a healthy Tank back and that just isn't going to happen. The worst is that his sister, Princess, starts wandering around the house, looking for him, every time she gets up and then she gets upset when she can't find him and then we all get upset all over again. I clearly do not do well with losing a pet.

Sleep well, my precious little Tank. I will love you and miss you forever and so will Princess.

Princess and Tank (right) hiding and cuddling under the kitchen table.

What a Year, eh?*

It's been a year since I left Canada and moved back to Delaware to live with my parents. I fled for a lot of reasons, but the big one was poverty and it caused most of the other problems. Paying tuition, rent, utilities, food, and all of Dewey's vet bills and prescription bills...it was all too much. My savings were gone (no surprise after five years of grad school), my funding ran out the year before, and I really just didn't see any way to survive on my own any more. I was at the end of my rope. I had no idea what I was going to do or how I was going to pay rent or buy food.

Over a year of this stress turned me into an emotional mess. I cried. A lot. I slept a lot. I curled up into a ball on the couch a lot. I felt as though I would not be able to handle any more problems that came my way. I was on the edge of a breakdown for a really long time. All of that added up to seemingly insurmountable writer's block, too, making the dissertation a frustrating reminder that, at 35, I am a failure both as a PhD student who can no longer write and as an adult who can not support herself and has to move back in with her parents.

This past year has been brutal, even with the help of my parents. They have been more than generous, helped out more than I ever wanted, and did all of this with a "we're so happy you're home" attitude that is truthful and meant to assuage my guilt but does not. I had to go back to waiting tables, working for the same company I worked for when I was sixteen. That was humiliating and yet here I am, working at the same place this summer because the money is too good to pass up. I found out more than I wanted about how precarious and soul-crushing life as an adjunct can be. I did not get to go to my best friend's wedding in the Bahamas, despite the fact that she's been my best friend for thirty years and she is more like a sister than a friend. I have basically spent the past year either at work or on my parents' couch, being unable to afford to do literally anything.

Still, I have had some successes. I presented at the MWCBS and the NACBS. The NACBS was a huge success, with a lot of networking and, more importantly, great feedback on my paper from scholars I really admire. I attended DHSI last summer and DHWI in January, thanks to scholarships and funding from my school. I taught two new classes and, despite some hiccups, really enjoyed the classes and my students, who mostly seemed to reciprocate, aside from a couple (one in particular) Negative Nellies. I'm going to DHSI next week, thanks to another scholarship, and in just over a month, I'm presenting at a Jacobite conference in Paris (again, thanks to funding). The NACBS, DHWI, DHSI, and the Paris conference have all been part of my master plan for years now and it feels amazing, if a little frightening, to actually see that plan become a reality.

The best part, though, is that my writing mojo is back. It's back! Not only am I writing, but my supervisor actually seems to like what I'm writing. He said it was "mature and authoritative," among other compliments that I can't actually remember right now. The pressure from my supervisor leaving for a new job in Scotland is immense and I do still panic that I won't get finished in time, but at least it is helping and not throwing me into a terrified, immobilized stupor, balled up on my couch, like I would have been in last year if this had happened.

The change in my mental state is something I did not expect. I am not expecting to collapse in a heaping puddle of tears at the slightest setback, offhand comment, or if I don't hear from a friend for a few days. I'm no longer terrified of failing, of disappointing my supervisor, my family, myself. Don't get me wrong - I still have a lot of self-doubt, but what grad student doesn't? From all the blogs I read, forget grad student, what academic doesn't? Still, I am recovering from financial disaster and I am writing. Both of those are things I would not have thought possible a year ago.

I owe all of this to my parents. Without them, none of this would have been possible. I doubt they know how grateful I am, unless they understood that all the cooking and baking I've done this year has been my way of thanking them. At least now they can read about how thankful I am.



*Despite my best efforts, "eh?" used to, and still does, pop into my conversations. What's that all aboot?

Je vais a Paris!

It's true. I'm going to the Paris conference in July and I couldn't be happier about it!

Despite my abject poverty and the pressure of finishing the dissertation, the conference was too good to pass up. The conference organizers are paying for grad students' hotel rooms and conferences fees, including lunches and the banquet. Evidently, my aunt and uncle didn't want me to miss this opportunity that I've talked about for, oh, four years, so they sent me a check that more than covers airfare. I tried to refuse (no, seriously, I really tried), but they were adamant, so...I'm going.

A friend I travel with a lot (or used to travel with a lot before poverty set in) is also going with me. We're staying a few days extra because I've never been to Paris and I don't know when I'll get back and I really want to see The Lady and the Unicorn tapestry and Abelard's grave and Sacre Couer and Notre Dame and all of the beautiful churches, really, and I want to wander around the streets, eating baguettes and cheese. Can you tell I'm excited? I can't wait!

The paper is already written, just needing a few revisions because it is similar to a paper I presented last year (the horror! but no one from that conference will be at this conference) and it's also part of a chapter that I've been working on, so it's in pretty good shape. If I stick to my schedule, I'll have three dissertation chapters written and two of them fully revised before Paris, assuaging some of my guilt about taking a break in the midst of heavy writing. So far, so good. More importantly, though, I already have heard from a few people expressing interesting in my new project. It's all starting to come together. Finally.

If anyone has any recommendations about where I need to go in Paris, I'd love to hear them. I especially like oddball places that not everyone knows.

Writing, Writing, and More Writing

It seems as though I am making decent progress on the chapter revisions, which were not too many to begin with, thankfully. The Montgomery Plot is kicking my butt, though, and making me not like it. It just won't fit into my chapter nicely, but it has to and so I've sat here for hours, struggling with it, trying to get it to play nicely because tomorrow is the deadline for these revisions and I can't afford to take longer on this chapter right now.

It doesn't help that I'm stressing about this because I have plans for tonight (for once!) and those plans start in roughly two hours and I still need to shower and get dressed and pack for the night. Perhaps a break to shower and pack will clear my head and I will come back and kick the Montgomery Plot's butt. Whining just a little bit about it has already helped, so did signing up for JaneB's writing group, which leads me to the entire point of this post...

As a reminder, Jane B is hosting the Top Left Quadrant writing group for the summer. Don't forget to sign up if you're interested. It starts this weekend!

Going, going....

My advisor is leaving my school. In three months.

I think I'm traumatized.

Crisis of Confidence

Yesterday was a bad day. It was one of those days where fear and anxiety wrap themselves around you, creating a cocoon of self-doubt that seems impossible to break. I basically spent the entire day on my couch, alternately between feeling sorry for myself and crying my eyes out. I went to a library fundraising dinner with my parents, which was my idea and so I couldn't back out of it, and even teared up at dinner. I even cried in the shower, hoping I would feel better because sometimes a good long cry in the shower helps. I don't know why it does, but it does. Except for yesterday.

I could not shake the overwhelming feeling that I will never finish this dissertation; that even if I do finish it I won't find a job; that I have wasted the majority of my life in pursuit of a goal that will not happen; that I have no social life because I make no money and sit at home every night, watching tv and wondering what my friends are doing; that I am losing one of my best friends because I can't afford to go to her wedding, even though she says she's fine and knows it's not my fault, but somehow her almost-daily phone calls and daily texts have all come to a screeching halt and I'm lucky if I get a quick text back to any one of mine; and that I am a failure at life because, at 35, I have had to move back in with my parents, who support me financially because I am basically unemployable, being somehow overqualified and underqualified, all at once, for many, many jobs and my parents are not really in the best position to help me, particularly for as long as has been necessary and seemingly will never end, so not only are my finances in shambles, but if something doesn't happen soon, I could seriously hurt my parents' future, too.

So. Today has been slightly better, if only because I had to lecture today, so I had to put on clothes and make-up and restrain from bursting into tears at any given moment. That doesn't mean I don't want to cry, just that I refuse to cry in my office because the walls do not go all the way up to the ceiling and people will hear me. At least I managed to type this post without crying. Perhaps this will be a turning point. I really, really need it to be.

What now?

I just realized my lesson plans for the week are all done. Friday's exam is at the printer. I don't have anything to do for the upcoming week and it's only Saturday. I'm often finishing lesson plans the night before (who doesn't? wait - don't tell me!), so I'm kind of stunned at don't know what to do.

Oh, wait. There is that pesky dissertation. Good thing I have two days to write this weekend because I'm definitely behind on my goals for the writing group this week!

Still, it's a celebration!

It's goal time!

I'm watching the Steelers game, which, for now, they are winning. It's an end-of-year miracle!






As I've watched them score a couple of touchdowns, it did make me think about hitting my own goals for the year. (Sorry for the very lame tie-in - I'm sure there's a dreadful goalpost pun in there somewhere, but I'm too tired to make one. It took all I had to even realize I should write something about this!)

Of course, this means that I have to have goals and they should probably be more specific than just "finish my blasted dissertation!" That's obviously my main goal, but I do have others, such as finding a job or a post-doc for when I actually am post-doc, and also taking better care of myself, partly by getting back to yoga to help reduce my sky-high stress level. I normally dread making resolutions and don't do it anymore because I rarely succeed in keeping them, but this time I'm going in with a game plan, inspired in part by my previous organization efforts, some twitter friends, and also by this post by The Research Whisperer.

I took a break from all work this past week to refresh and rejuvenate. I wasn't doing any good trying to relax and still do a few hours of work a day all at the same time. Someone on a productivity chat on twitter reminded me that sometimes giving yourself time off completely actually means more for your productivity in the end. So, I ignored that little voice in my head screaming at me to put down Pride and Prejudice and read something for my dissertation. I persevered in my forced relaxation (sounds silly, doesn't it?) and did not get back to work and you know what? I feel SO much better! I'm actually ready to get back to work.

Today I broke out my giant dry-erase 4-month calendar and started setting startlines and deadlines for chapters and revisions. I love the planning stages of a project or regrouping for a project. Calendars are fun! Lists are amazing! Next step is gathering all those deadlines for fellowships. I'm even using Evernote to keep things moving along in an orderly manner, but more on that later.

All of this is all going to help with my biggest goal (aside from the dissertation, that is), the one that seems the most unattainable, which is to give myself one day off a week -  one full day with no work, no email, no facebook, and no twitter, which is somewhat ironic, since the same productivity chat on twitter reminded me of this Profhacker post on giving yourself a day of rest each week. My day of rest might not have the religious connotations that most of those contributors mention, but it does tie into my taking better care of myself/reducing my stress level goal, too. I want the glory of a day devoted strictly to me...and probably my dog. He's hard to resist.

Now that I think about it, pretty much all of my goals are all wrapped up together. Finishing my dissertation, finding a job or post-doc, taking better care of myself all tie into and result from each other. I will be so much better off mentally when the diss is done; ditto if I find a post-doc or (please, please, please) a job; and taking care of myself will help finish the diss and hunt for a job or post-doc. I do like nice, tidy loops like that.

But, back to the Steelers - they won! I'm hoping this bodes well for my goals for 2013!