When it rains, it pours

I wonder why. But now I know that when it rains, it pours.

Two disasters by noon:

 1) Dave knocked over my coffee onto my computer, and despite my superhuman speed, I was unable to save about a dozen keys. Now I have to go to Mac Authority to find out how many ounces or pounds of flesh they will demand to fix it. The kicker is that because he is a kitty, he doesn't understand what he did, only the consequences to him. Poor Dave.

2) My student loan letter came today. The tininess of the amount that Vanderbilt is offering me boggles. Now Sam is talking about jobs upon jobs for the summer, when I just really, really want to pass my oral exam and begin writing my dissertation.

So, if any of y'all knows about a freelance position in editing (e.g., production editing, copy editing, developmental editing, technical editing) or writing, think of me, the little matchgirl. 

What it's sometimes like in here; or, I am often a bad conversationalist

I'm sure I've mentioned this, but my oral exam is coming soon and it's causing me to be a little obsessive/avoidant, which is kind of like being passive-aggressive, but with anxiety. The exam will be about 2 hours long. I've been thinking a lot about it. My best shot may be to try to get my committee members to argue with each other. I need to make a plan for how to prepare for this thing, but whenever I think about it, I get this queasy feeling and I have to lay down or think about something else.

I like the word innumerate. I also like this quotation, from Mr. Nietzsche: "Someone who does not write books, who thinks a lot, and who lives in [an] unsatisfying society will usually be a good letter-writer." I do all three, and although I'm a spotty letter-writer, I now assume that the ones I write are superior. 

I'm sure I've mentioned this, but my oral exam is coming soon and it's causing me to be a little obsessive/avoidant. . . .

Also from Nietzsche, in the mouth of Zarathustra. It makes me laugh: "If I must be pitying, then I certainly do not want to be called such; and if I am, then preferably from a distance." Also funny (although mostly misquoted and mistaken for something happy and light): "I would only believe in a god who knew how to dance." I should take a nap with Nora. She'll like that. And then I can read my crappy book instead of——

I'm sure I've mentioned this, but my oral exam. . . .

This counts, right? Reading around Thus Spoke Zarathustra for aphorisms that are funny or interesting? Like this: "That everyone is allowed to learn to read ruins not only writing in the long run, but thinking also." This one belongs on a poster: "I learned to walk, since then I let myself run. I learned to fly, since then I do not wait to be pushed to move from the spot."

I'm sure I've mentioned . . . .

"Life is hard to bear: but then do not carry on so tenderly! We are all of us handsome, load bearing jack- and jillasses."

Oral exam

I wish I were referring to going to a dentist. But no—some time during the week of April 7, my committee will sit me down and fire questions at me. I am terrified. They can ask me about my written comprehensive exam answers, any of the sources on my lists (between 250 and 275 texts), and the proposal I turned in on Friday. Today, I realized that they can expect me to be familiar with all of the entries in the 4-page bibliography I compiled for the proposal. I haven't read much of this material since before I took my written exam last May. 

So I will not be camping weekend after next.

Circumspect, part 2

On another note—the last resort of a writer who has no other method of transition—I'd like to talk about misspeaking. The Oxford American Dictionary widget I have suggests that misspeaking denotes an error of accuracy. My Merriam-Webster dictionary defines lie as "1. to make an untrue statement with the intent to deceive"; and "2. to create a false or misleading impression." The difference between misspeaking and lying may be one of intent, in the first definition of the word lie, but the second definition of lie and the meaning of misspeak seem to be the same: to create a false impression occurs as a result of failing to express oneself accurately.

 

In short, Senator Clinton lied. 

 

I think she lied with intent and used the word "misspoke" to avoid admitting it. Running from sniper fire seems like it would be a memorable experience, unmistakable for talking to a small girl on the tarmac, with Chelsey at her side.

 

But even if she didn't intend to polish up a revised and "vivid" (NY Times) version of the Bosnia trip so it makes her look brave and important, she lied. 

Circumspect, part 1

I'm considering getting rid of the enormous steel desk I have. I don't work at it. Or maybe I should just get rid of all of the stuff on top of it so that I'm more likely to work at it. 

Certainly, it is time for a purge. I never look at those back issues of Modernism/Modernity, as much as I think I should. Two of those desk organizer thingers contain papers I haven't looked at in weeks. How important could they be? And I think I've never read a single copy of The Believer. In my closet, chaos has spread itself thick. Why do I have so many things I never wear or use?

The answer to all of the whys is that one can never tell when something might be useful. This attitude makes sense when books are involved. Perhaps one day soon, I might need a quotation from Middlemarch. It's unlikely, but the possibility meets the minimum requirement of keeping that book on the shelf. Books do decorate a room, as someone said once, and a book may also be lent out to a friend who—should she read it—will be improved by at least that much. (Perhaps I agree a  little more with Arnold's "sweetness and light" principle than I'd like to admit.) 

4,000

4,000 U.S. soldiers have died in Iraq since the beginning of  the war. According to NPR, 1 in 6 were old enough to drink. The day the war started, Sam and I sat at our local, watched the announcement of invasion, and wept. I am certain we were not the only ones, and I sympathize with those families who lost wives, husbands, siblings.

Cancelled class today. Down.

Dissertation Proposal

So, I turned in my dissertation proposal yesterday. It doesn't feel at all like I thought it would; of course, the weighty discussion of camping didn't add to any celebratory mood. (For god's sake, people, it's one weekend among many, and it's probably going to rain anyway.) And then there was the end-of-the-evening weeping, which was for once not my doing.

At any rate, Sam kept me—if not sane—fed and clothed, and he supported me through the process and continues to support me, for which I am grateful. Another significant resource was a list I borrowed from successfulacademic.typepad.com, who in turn borrowed it from some people (Burka and Yuen) who wrote a book called Procrastination. The list follows, with some adaptation. In italics following each item is its logical opposite, most of which were very hard to write. I mean, physically. Without rolling my eyes.

The Procrastinator's Code

1. My work must be perfect. (My work will not be perfect. No one can make a perfect work.)
2. It's safer to do nothing than to take a risk and fail. (Taking a risk and it not working will happen, but when it does, I am not the one that failed. Only the risk.)
3. If my work gets critical feedback, I've failed. (If my work gets critical feedback, I've succeeded. Criticism equals engagement with my work.)
4. I shouldn't stop until every sentence is just right. (I can't make every sentence perfect, no matter how hard I try. "And time yet for a hundred indecisions,/ And for a hundred visions and revisions/ Before the taking of a toast and tea."
5. I shouldn't start until I know exactly what to say. (I should use writing to find out what I want to say. I don't need to know beforehand. That is prognostication.)
6. If I expose my work, people will see that I am inadequate. (Everyone feels like a fraud, at least some of the time.)
7. I need to do more research before I start writing. (Research and writing should happen at the same time. If I start to feel I need more research, I'll put in brackets ad keep writing.)
8. I've already fucked up by not producing more, so why start now? (I can't change the past. I can just work now.)
9. If I make myself miserable enough, maybe I'll begin working. (Making myself miserable leads to my trying to escape. It will never lead to working.)
10. If I am not working, I should punish myself with guilt. And maybe junk food. (Self-punishment is counterproductive. I don't have to suffer. I want the Ph.D. I am choosing to do this work.)
    

If you ever need to, you can adapt these statements to your own use. Now that I have a little distance, they seem a little twelve-step-ish, but I did get the thing written. I've also now noticed that these statements are embedded in "Prufrock." Joke's on me.