And That's What It's All About!

Don't be disappointed. This post isn't about the Hokey Pokey. It's about teaching. I can tell you're sad. Sorry to disappoint!

Anyway, I was on campus yesterday to pick up my printed syllabus because the print shop lady doesn't get to campus until 7:45 a.m. and I have an 8:00 a.m. class on Monday and am far too obsessive to even consider waiting until then to get pick up my syllabus. Anyway, I ran into a few of my former students, football players who were already on campus for practice, and they seemed genuinely excited to see me. We chatted for a bit about the upcoming semester and their season and it was nice. It's why I decided to go back after all.

Then today I checked my class rosters and noticed that one of my students in World Civ last year signed up for a class with me this semester. A repeater! My first repeater! How cool is that? I'm so excited! I can't wait to get back in the classroom!

It's happening all over again...maybe??

I got an email today asking me to teach at the same school again this fall. They offered me two sections of U.S. History again.

I'm conflicted. I didn't think I'd be willing to go back and I'm still not sure that it's a good idea because it's not very much money (I mean even lower than normal adjunct pay) and I may just be setting myself up for heartbreak all over again. On the other hand, I wouldn't have to revise anything unless I really, really wanted to, giving me time to finish the dissertation and keeping a foot in the door somewhere, since I've had absolutely no interest from any other schools I've applied to and the semester is rapidly approaching. It also means I could bartend or wait tables part-time, instead of the full-time option I'm staring down right now since no other teaching options are working for me.

I don't know. Any of you who so patiently listened to all of my whining (and celebrating, too) last year want to weigh in on this, keeping in mind that I've been trying for months and months (and months and months) to find alternate employment and keep getting rejected for being overqualified and underqualified, etc., etc., etc.?

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!