Weird

It's weird that I haven't posted since July. I bet these words are just floating around without any readers.

Anyway, it's late for reading other people's lousy essays about genre, so I thought I'd update a little before bed. Sam and I have been thinking about the upcoming holidays, and people in my group therapy have been talking about their plans with families. I have to say, it gets me down. If it weren't for my alienation from my parents and Sam's fissure with his brother, if it weren't for the fact that we have no money to travel, if I had the time to take a break in my work, maybe we'd get some plans together that don't involve just the two of us having dinner at home. Who will eat the two pies I make each year? We have such great memories of recent Thanksgivings, and the true sharing among families and friends. Although last Thanksgiving could have gone a little more smoothly, I admit. Maybe the two of us, the turkey and a couple of pies will warm our home just fine.

Also, Sam got this kick-ass tattoo. Maybe he'll show it to you.

Also, I'm working on Chapter 2. Maybe I'll get this damn thing done after all.

The birthday

Thank you all for the birthday wishes. Sam, your eloquence in love always fills my heart to its bated brim.

Writing

As you all know, I'm working pretty hard on the diss. Watching movies is still fun—we saw Yes Man last night—but writing isn't so much fun anymore.

This is to say that I might take a little break from the blog. Otherwise, I'll just use it as a forum for complaint and self-doubt. Which I'm feeling a lot of lately.

{sigh}

There are days when I think that writing a dissertation is beyond my ability. This is one of them.

More news

So it turns out that I only need two signatures for my proposal, which means they can approve it next week, fucking finally. So that's great. Also great is that my DGS and my committee got together to scrape together some funding for me for the fall!!! It warms my cockles to think that they just went and did it. Also, I turned in a draft of my introduction.

So now, the writing must really begin. 

Also, kudos to Sam for being so supportive by watching some Stan Laurel with me. Thanks, baby.

To chortle

When I read scholarly texts, my standards for what is funny become much lower. Anything resembling humor becomes a welcome relief. Take Gerald Edelman's rendering of an apparently old "joke":

A race track . . . was failing financially. The track management consulted three experts: an accountant, an engineer, and a physicist. The accountant recommended restructuring of the balance sheets; the engineer suggested that the slow track could be fixed by slight banking and better drainage. When his turn came, the physicist went up to the blackboard, drew a circle, and said, "Let us replace the horse with a sphere."

The joke structure is there: A reasonable premise—racetracks fail, I guess. An unusual assortment of people—who calls a physicist for advice anyway? The progression—first one, then another, then the [and I use this term loosely] punchline. 

I admit that it made me chortle, which word by the way Lewis Carroll coined, as a combination of chuckle and snort. I guess some logicians are funnier than others.

New Outside Reader

On a dissertation committee in my department, you must have 3 departmental readers and 1 reader outside the department. My current outside reader is a poor soul in the Art Department, but my project has evolved to the extent that it is well afield of what this woman knows.

So what's a person to do? Reach out. I wrote an email to the author of my currently favorite scholarly text and asked him to be my reader. And, folks, he said yes!

I'm not especially good at this sort of thing, so I'm pretty excited that Dr. Singer agreed to participate. He said that my project "looks very interesting," and he thinks that it'll possibly help him prepare for a course he wants to teach. All to the good. 

Picture pages

The baby

We have a 7.5-week-old baby cat. [Picture to come.] I'm pretty sure that he's a boy, not that it really matters. He's fast asleep on his back, head lolling carelessly, in my lap. I know that all kittens are cute, if only by virtue of being tiny, but this kitten is no bigger than a coffee cup. Every visible part of him is gray, except his pea-sized pawpads and the inside of his ears. He's brave and curious, and he tends to fall off of his perch when he's trying to pounce on something that moves. 

We were going to name him The Artful Dodger, but although he dodges sometimes, he is in no way artful about it. So his new name is T.S. 

Nora gets really excited about him, and they're on the verge of cuddling while sleeping. Jane is taking the addition remarkably well. She hisses and growls when he gets too close, but she doesn't generally take swipes at him. 

The problem is, as I see it, he's so fucking cute that it's hard to get work done. He's either trying to play with the pen I'm using, or he's purring loudly in his sleep. It's a real problem. Thanks, Sam.

A little back patting

Today I was thinking about what I've done during the past three months since I've been out of the hospital. It's not a long list, and it's not in order of importance or date, but it means something to me, and I thought I'd share it with you. [I know that's totally a run-on sentence.]

• I found a psychiatrist and a psychologist. They make up my international mental health team.
• I renewed my commitment to Sam in front of our families and closest friends. It was awesome.
  
• I presented some of my work before an audience of my colleagues, and I got thoughtful questions that showed they were listening. I was (this part is important) able to answer them. So there.
• I made out the checks for my hospital stay, the ambulance, and another mental health bill. Get this: there's a Vanderbilt Medical Group and a Vanderbilt Medical Hospital, and they both billed us. And riding in an ambulance is not nearly as cool as one might think but it's also less expensive.
• I applied for and got student loans, a labyrinthine process.
• I gained a little weight, but it's not meds weight, so I'll be able to slowly take it off.
• I got a new tattoo. 
• I started working on the diss again. Although I sometimes panic about my topic and its scope, it's good to be seriously working again. It's especially good to be working in a healthy way, without mania.

So that's my list. I don't feel that productive, but looking at the things I've done makes me realize that my therapist is right: I am getting stronger.