The Culture Tent

For the First Time In History, Nun's Hit the Front Page

2009-07-02T10:29:00.002-05:00

(Disclaimer: This is really only armchair sociology...nothing real analytical here...)

I knew it was only a matter of time before word got out.

I awoke this morning to a flurry of activity on Facebook and e-mail, citing this article in the New York Times discussing the Vatican-mandated "sweep" of convents in the US. Some people even went out of their way to e-mail it to me, making me warm and fuzzy inside because now I have a legitimate "hook" as a sociologist...I'm the Nun Girl writing, as Judy Wittner calls it, "That Nun Thing."

In an attempt to preserve credibility and comment on this "breaking story" (and shore up my ability to say "I told you so" in a couple years), I felt it necessary to put to virtual paper my commentary on this little story that I've been following since the news broke the first time about a year and a half ago. (See people, I have been working...it's just on the sly...)

My Thoughts on the Article and the "Sweep":
1. I think it's funny that people are buzzing about this now that they've seen an article that uses the word "sweep" to define what's going on. Also "investigation" tends to be a hot-button word. Emotions run high. Also, the interviewees (Sandra Schneiders, for example) happen to be the most outspoken, most radical commentators on women's religious in this country. Awesome NYT, for just relaying the facts...if relaying the facts means instigating a fight...

2. Everyone seems to assume that the Vatican is "beating up on the little nuns" by asking for assessments of their congregations. This is fascinating to me; clearly many seem to espouse natural sympathy for these women regardless of what they might be doing. It's a very gendered image that our general, collective mind has about nuns in this country: as girls, overly naive, virgins, overly humble, overly meek. Just look at the Grand Inquisitor, over here. Seriously. In no way do I mean to say that some aren't this. But it's good to remember that this population of women varies as widely as any population of women. This is important to keep in mind because...

3. ...They could be complicit in their own downfall. It's no secret that the social climate in the US (meaning the opportunity structure for women) creates a platform for this kind of phenomenon to be unique to this country. HOWEVER, I'm aware of many communities of women who have gone off the deep end in terms of employing a seriously manipulated theology to navigate this social climate. What do I mean? I mean, they took vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience (and sometimes more) and have re-written them over time to mean different things that seem to privilege certain values over others. Does poverty mean having a credit card as long as you can pay off the balance? Does it mean wearing jewelry (and I'm talking diamond earrings) and expensive clothes as long as they are "gifts" from your family? Does it mean having a personal car that no one else can use as long as the community signs the lease? Because for some (and by some I mean NOT ALL) communities, it does. And this raises questions in terms of their initial promises to the institution of the Church. I'm all for letting these strong, well-educated, saavy women find their own way but I think they're drowning and, for many, they don't know how to get out. A little accountability and belt-tightening might be the answer in restoring a little bit of vitality to those congregations that are flagging.

4. "Blame" will be assigned I'm sure. But that waggling finger should be pointing directly back at the Vatican. They, out of fear and disdain, have neglected this issue since the effects of Vatican II have been visible (that would be, since the early 1970s...). They have ignored the very social climate that has created the bedrock for this American phenomenon and, in typical fashion, have prayed that it would disappear. Sorry boys--especially a fella named Benedict--you cannot put Vatican II back in the box. It's time to start having some insight into the reasons this is happening and owning the fact that you've poorly managed the Church in this country--on both the men's and women's sides. (Don't even start me on the ways the laity in this country have been completely left on their own

At this point, I realize, I could keep going for hours. I could write an estimated 200 pages (the convenient length of, oh I don't know, a run-o-the-mill sociological dissertation) on just such a topic. So I'll stop here and tell you to go buy the book (in 2011). But, I think in general everyone should see this process much as teachers view evaluations by department chairs or principals. We all know that the teachers who have been fucking around, pushing the boundaries too far, and basically taking a too-liberal tack on their job are the ones who should be sweating it and, usually, for good reason.

In the end, this process could save those who may have grown unable to save themselves...or it could send women in the Church back into the dark ages at which point reading a little bit of Karl Marx might come in handy.

Either way, only time will tell. But I'll sure be watching.

Sleepless Nights

2009-05-29T16:18:00.003-05:00

The craziest thing about being productive academically is that it's kicked my brain into an overdrive that I cannot shut off. When am I most acutely aware of this? At night as I'm laying in bed, desperately pleading with my brain to fall asleep. And it will not. Here's how it generally goes:

Me: Ahhhh, the end of the day. Thank god I can lay down.
My Brain (eagerly): How are you going to find a job in this market?
Me (annoyed): Why are you thinking about that now? You've got, like two years left to go before even needing that answered?
My Brain: Well, you're assuming that you'll be done with this in two years...
Me: I'm done talking to you right now. I have to fall asleep because I have to get up early tomorrow. Relax. Relax. Relax. Relax. Don't move any muscles.

Silence for two minutes

My Brain: How much in student loans do you think you have accumulated?
Me: No. No. No. I'm not doing this right now. Sleep is good. Let's sleep.
My Brain: Let's see. If we round to the nearest 20 for each year...
Me: Hi. Yeah you. Brain. Shut it. No rounding.
My Brain: It's simple addition really. I'm thinking you're approaching six figures awfully fast which is why I initially brought up the job...
Me: [sigh.] Brain. OFF.

Silence for 2.3 minutes

My Brain: So this culture stuff is interesting, huh?
Me (getting angry): SERIOUSLY. It's 1:30am. I have to wake up in 5 HOURS. PLEASE.
My Brain: What I want to know is how you're sure no one's already said this...I mean, this is a lot of reading that you're kind of glossing over. And who do you think you are, really, writing this stuff. You don't know. Have you read the whole library yet? And what about...
Me: SHUT UP BRAIN. YOGA, WHERE ARE YOU?
My Brain: Pffft*. Yoga. Yoga's dumb. Like you for sitting on your ass for a whole year and not doing anything. Or maybe it would work if you ever actually did it. I mean, you sure talk about it a lot...
Me: [sigh] Brain. OFF

Silence for 30 seconds

My Brain: You missed 30 Rock tonight...and it was a new episode...and Tina Fey is cool, huh?...but what about Alec Baldwin...gained a lot of weight...hey the new scale isn't working...and you have to go to Target one of these days to return that stuff sitting in the front hall...and ohmygod you're moving in, like 4 weeks, and I wonder how much of the security deposit you'll get back since you're not repainting the old place...and did you hear that car passing?!? Holy crap how can anybody listen to music that loud...and thank god you got that Ipod finally because I like Kelly Clarkson...but American Idol...what a stupid show...I wonder who's on The View tomorrow morning and your car is really rusting on the left side...
Me: [sigh]. Okay. Yoga's dumb. Advil PM...not so dumb.

I get up, take the recommended dose, and return to my torture chamber.

My Brain: You shouldn't take that stuff...it's probably destroying your liver...but then you could have a hundred things wrong with you because you've haven't been to the doctor in years wait what was that did you feel that it seemed like a pain coming from your left pinkie toe no wait it was your tooth because you haven't been to the dentist in 5 years and there probably rotting in there and are things getting darker in here?
Me: Advil's kickin' in. Thank God.
My Brain: butwaitwhatifyoudon'twakeupandidon'tgetachancetothinkaboutwhatthehypotenuese
ofaperfectstormgeorgeclooneymattdamonlasvegasslotmachinesgaryindiana.....

Brain fades into the distance as sweet, sweet sleep takes over.

Contrast this with the writing process:

Me: Okay brain. We're at the library. We've got coffee. We've got chocolate chip cookies. We've got comfy pants and the favorite t-shirt on. We're sitting in the best seat in the house. Go.
My Brain: [crickets].

Ugh. I don't know. Maybe my brain and I need some counseling or a date night or something. Because right now...we're headed straight for a divorce.

*Thanks Meghan for articulating this response. My brain does that all the time.

The First Day of The Rest of My Life (Again)

2009-05-04T16:02:00.002-05:00

One of the things I'm having a hard time convincing my non-academic (aka "normal") friends about is the degree to which reinvention becomes a necessary and important step in this whole process. And, in turn, how quickly disillusionment can set back in. It creeps. It seeps. It drips. I hate that. I wish disillusionment was a solid. I could just close the door on it and deal with the pounding. No. Instead, it oozes.

Anyway, today is the first day that I've had in this 2009 year to return to the idea that 3 days a week are devoted fully to school work. I've been teaching for the past semester with the best intentions of doing everything and it didn't work. But what it did do was make me so antsy to get back to this that I've re-found a new kind of motivation. I've dealt with the intellectual implications. I've crossed the threshold of that looming, dark, foul place we around here like to call "the library," and I'm ready to go again.

I'll address the fear and the structure of the day later. Let's just say, this Monday is the first day of the rest of my life. Until Wednesday, I'm sure, when something shiny, with blinking flashing lights shows up and steals my attention away.

Nah. I think I'm past it.

Judith Butler: Scary, Kick-Ass Smart

2009-04-20T16:19:00.003-05:00

I went to see Judith Butler last week at UIC. This is not something I would typically do of my own volition, sad to say. I'm not at all motivated on a sunny, 70 degree Friday afternoon to go and sit in a crowded room full of smart-people wannabes and listen to highfalutin esoteric theory. But I made a deal with a friend of mine who I hadn't seen in awhile and I couldn't bring myself to cancel just because I'm an intellectual couch potato. So I went. Of course, I'm glad I did.

Judith Butler is kind of a god in her own right. Her work spans about three or four academic disciplines, it's objectively brilliant, and she writes the greatest most convoluted sentences known to all people-kind. She's one of those people whose names gets thrown around by lesser-known but desperately jealous theory-ophiles who want to sound really "in the know." She's important. So just for celebrity factor alone I thought it would be interesting. And it definitely was.

I'm sorry to say but I do give UIC a thumbs down for how the event was planned. Not enough seating, no microphones for the audience, and a blazing hot room made the event indicative of every academic lecture I've ever been to. But JB herself was somethin' else. Diminutive in stature, she packs a walloping philosophical punch. From the minute I laid my eyes upon the short, salt and pepper bowl haircut, parting of its own will in a conveniently placed center spot on her forehead and the square, shoulder-padded black blazer, I knew she was intellectual royalty. She had on the "smart woman's" dress code. Two thumbs up (but with tongue slightly in cheek) on the fact that she read one of her more recent papers...and I mean read it. So to listen to her meant focusing on every single word in order to quickly, efficiently move it into a place in the sentence that made sense. Since each sentence took roughly five minutes to complete, at about minute 3 you realized that you couldn't get lazy now...you had to hear that last part of the sentence or all that hard work would be lost.

But despite all of that which was so wonderfully, typically "intellectual" about her presence, that's not why she's a smart woman. She blew me away with her topic: Her ultimate question was how we come to decide which lives (from the Iraq war and the images we use to translate that war) are "grievable" and thus, human. How is it that we come to understand that the lives of women and children, of those of a particular nationality, color, or creed should be grieved over when lost while others deaths mark a kind of poetic justice or ring with righteousness? Even more intense, how does the way in which these images that create categories like "the tortured" or "the victim" intersect our lives so essentially that they literally and efficaciously change who we understand to be human, including ourselves.

While she introduces us to these questions under the guise of "the effects of media," her argument turns to a deeply embedded, real effect that these images have on the human condition. It's not like watching a tree getting blown in the wind; the bent tree and rustling leaves are an effect of the wind but once the wind dies down the tree returns to its original state. Her argument is much more sophisticated and, frankly, scary. These images of war, "frames of war" she calls them, essentially change who we are. We are not trees bending in the wind; like a nuclear holocaust, this wind--these images--is essentially changing what it means to be human and we're growing into a species we've never been before. Nothing will "return to normal" when (and if) this war ends...because the images of Abu Graib and the images of the caskets returning home indelibly etch into our minds who "deserves" to be mourned; they determine for us whose lives are legitimate enough to mourn and whose lives are deservedly taken from them.

From a sociological standpoing, we can critique this up and down. I won't because I think she's frying a much bigger, more important fish. And aside from that, I think this kind of questioning signals a special kind of brilliance. I've forgotten the joy of being in the presence of someone who is obviously so vigilantly, stridently, assertively creative. Just being able to share her worldview for a short time on a Friday when, admittedly, I wanted to be elsewhere just made me remember the joy I find in turning the world on its head and making sense of the ways in which the pieces of the puzzle re-align. I don't get this close to Scary Smart too often. And it was like a breath of fresh air. I felt challenged. At strangely at home there.

It's a Dissertation, People

2009-04-16T12:52:00.002-05:00

I have a rant. I'm not sure why but people who talk to me about my school work ask me how my thesis is going, I get all up on the warpath. This makes me insanely, crazily, angrily nuts. Why? I think it's because I'm well beyond the point of thesis. No, no. Make no mistake. I'm doing (well, not yet, but soon) a dissertation. It's longer. It's more involved. It's exponentially more painful. I think it's also why you get three letters after your name when you're done as opposed to the two that come with a thesis.

But here's my real rant: I can't believe this bothers me so much. It's academic craziness. It's splitting hairs for most people. It's mincing words. And I don't care. I'd like you to ask me about my dissertation, because that's what my work is now. And I'd like you to acknowledge the difference between the type (and length) of work it takes to get a Masters (which is always admirable) and the type (AND LENGTH!) of work it takes to get a PhD. Basically, I want you to acknowledge my pain, that's all. Please.

Consider yourself warned. Drop the word thesis at your own risk from now on.

A Helpful Diagram

2009-04-14T15:54:00.003-05:00

30 Minute Rule

2009-04-14T15:28:00.001-05:00

I hate the 5 minute rule but not for the reasons you think. As a teacher, it keeps me accountable. If I'm running late for class, I know full well that there's some bold little punk-ass know-it-all in there who will surely invoke this mythical entitlement to all students and then I'm called out for being late...which I shouldn't be--because teaching is my job. I'm not sure why I was thinking about this the other day (I swear, I haven't been late but for 1 or 2 classes this semester) when I realized that if I flipped the logic, this could work for me and my lack of my own accountability.

Thus the 30 Minute Rule was born in my academic life. This is the deal I've made with myself: Everyday, I have to work on something school related for at least 30 minutes. There's no expectation to do more. However, I know myself well enough to know that once I'm engrossed in something (which usually takes only about 10 minutes), it might as well be 4 hours and usually is. So this is my challenge: sit down at the computer. Do not touch Facebook. Do not check e-mail. And for 30 minutes look at Sociology. I did this a couple times last week and actually became bizarrely proactive. Uncomfortably proactive. And productive.

Of course the 30 minutes usually starts at 12:30 am but that's okay. Baby steps. Baby steps.

Meghan's Dissertation Satisfaction Scale

2009-04-09T13:15:00.002-05:00

Because I thought this was brilliant, I want this on here for future reference. It might be the standard by which all of my future writing is cataloged. (Click on the title to see her original post...)

10: Wow, I'm going to be famous!
9: Done? I'm not done yet? Oh, whatever.
8: I can see some articles in here!
7: This too, shall pass.
6: Not sweating the small stuff
5: Lots of dissertations are better, lots are worse.
4: Satisfying my anxiety by working on something small and going online too often
3: Who let me into school? How did no one notice I don't belong here?
2: Just try not to puke on the keyboard....
1: Should'a been a farmer.

Thank you, Meghan.

Conference Fun for Everyone

2009-04-06T15:53:00.002-05:00

No matter where I am the phrase "professional development" strikes fear in my heart. I'm not sure why. When I taught in high school, this meant taking "classes" on how to effectively set up a grade book (I'm not kidding) or how to integrate technology into your classroom (aka "How Not to Make an Ass of Yourself Using PowerPoint"). At my work in the not-for-profit world, professional development means learning about grant writing, funding cycles, marketing, and whatever else (I'm still new to this one). For graduate students, professional development means dragging your sorry self to a conference in the middle of absolutely nowhere to practice puffing yourself (and your work) up in front of your future colleagues and your present peers. To be fair to any professional development attempts, I have to come clean of my bias right up front: I do not find any of this helpful.

Now, I realize that some find this very productive uses of time. And that's fine for them. No judgment here. But I just don't get it. If you're presenting a paper, you've got 15 minutes to throw out to the unknowing and unfamiliar audience what is usually a very complex and well-reasoned argument. This is like saying to someone, "Sum up your life experiences for me in 15 minutes; some thematic help would be appreciated." It's so hard. What makes it even more difficult is that the floor is then opened for questions from people who could or could not know anything or everything about your topic. It's a potential gauntlet during which you, as the presenter, have to also appear calm and collected.

If you're just an "attender" to a conference, the whole tack is different. This time around I had trouble finding panels that fit into my interest areas. (Then again, I also had the revelation that my interest may not be academic sociology so again my bias creeps in.) But my general reaction to hearing panels of 3-4 papers generally grouped by a theme was definitely, "Why is this work important?" I didn't mean it to be snarky. I just couldn't see what it had to do with anything.

I'll admit, and this is probably an unpopular opinion in the academic community which seems to thrive on this event-based collegiality but, I find conferences the number 1 ritual involved in "playing the game." There is a correct and incorrect way to attend conferences. There are panels you "should go to," dinners you "should stop in to," hands you should shake, introductions you should make, names to remember, networking to treat very seriously. In other words, every conference is a political convention and you're the candidate. Work it correctly and you could actually find that tenure-track job dangling at the end. Not take it seriously and the consequences aren't dire; it just means you don't really exist.

What I really wish is that the spirit of creating and building upon ideas was undertaken with as much fervency as the pressing the flesh. I would love to see politics take a back seat to letting really talented scholars display their work and letting us, as the audience, reap the benefits of hearing it.

Maybe you can do that now. But somehow, figuring that out has completed eluded me.

Just When You Thought It Was Safe...

2009-03-31T00:42:00.003-05:00

Have I mentioned I hate outlines? Yes, yes, I think I have. I can assure you nothing has changed. Here's specifically why I hate this outline. We'll call it the "Culture Special Field Outline":

1. It never goes away.
2. It's become a huge guessing game. Have you ever done an outline of books based on their content before you've actually read them? One word: Nightmare.
3. It's 8 pages long.
4. It shows up in my dreams as a living, breathing dream character. This I find creepy.
5. It's gone through multiple drafts (which I also deeply hate with the passion of a 1000 burning suns...I originally typed "sons" which is a different image altogether...)

Basically, this thing is the academic equivalent of The Swamp Thing. Just when you think you're safe to dive into the water of the Sociology of Culture which equals in volume(s) (...get it...volumes like books...and the sea is volumes of water...no?) the Indian Ocean (not the Pacific but the Indian), this thing will slimily graze your toes in the shallow water and scare the crap out of you.

I just spend my good days running back up the beach in terror.

Fundundrum

2009-03-30T12:41:00.004-05:00

Oh man. If I had known that about half of my life would be spent trying to secure some kind of funding for the next year, I would have seriously considered staying a religion teacher, in all of its boring security, for the next 25 years. This issue of paying for (or, ideally, getting someone else to pay for) "further studies" just never lets up. There's always a new crisis. And these crises almost appear myopically bigger than any other life crisis because the means of your livelihood just hangs tenuously in the balance on a year to year basis. One can only hope to be lucky enough to find some source of income that is renewable.

My history of the funding gods smiling on me is a happy one; I've been very lucky to have managed to string together enough fellowships to at least pay for my tuition and defray the costs of living, although don't fool yourself...I still have a healthy amount of loans out there to be repaid at some point in my life. But, it just feels like every year, the month of February is so stressful; come May, that pittance check will stop arriving altogether and, whoa, I'm one step away from homelessness.

There's a lot of reasons this funding game is a total mess. It's political. It's trying. It's tenuous. It's not enough money to live on. It doesn't even address the ways I personally add value to my department. And I'm routinely made to feel like I'm not grateful enough for it. Which I am...grateful...but only proportionally grateful to the amount of money I get. I now also have to be grateful to my generous credit card companies who allow me to spend their money so freely.

There is more on this to come for sure, but I wish on this subject, I could have a sign-in so I could really be honest about how demoralizing and distasteful this whole business is. I wish we used the word "Merit" more and meant it. "Fair" and "Accessible" would also be nice words to throw around...maybe just once in awhile.

Solitude

2009-03-26T11:51:00.003-05:00

The one transition that really shocked me out of my shoes was the abrupt change from "School as a Group Activity" to "Scholars work Alone." While I was in classes, I never understood the point of conferences. Now that I'm without a forum to discuss my ideas, conferences make a hell of a lot of sense.

This difference has been a major stumbling block for me. How do you continue pushing for new ideas when there's no one around who cares to hear them? It's a similar stumper to the "if a tree falls in the woods and there's no one to hear it..."adage. If I have a great idea, the best one of my life so far, and no one's there to witness it, what happens? I've become the tree falling...if no one is there to hear my ideas, do they exist? I can say they do, but as a classic verbal processor, I begin to wilt without a community of fellow yakkers.

My response to this has been to take my ideas to the street; think Guerrilla Sociological Theory. I've made my "Others" (random Lost reference) listen to my ideas and it's been interesting. Turns out their outside perspective really helps and can be wonderfully insightful in ways I never could have expected. And sometimes they just roll their eyes and we talk about tv. I love that too.

There will be more to come on friends as a support network because I need to publicly acknowledge that undertaking--and in this case, my friends have been HUGELY supportive--but at the end of the day, I'm the one that will climb this mountain. And, sadly, I'll have to do it alone. That's what pressing for original "takes" on things requires, I think.

I just wish I could take someone with me.

Outlines : A Four Letter Word 2x

2009-03-25T12:47:00.003-05:00

There comes a time in a "good student's" life at which she realizes she's been able to elude, for a whole educational career, some skills and processes that might be normal and comforting to other people. Outlining is one of these conundrums for me. And I've now hit the outline wall going roughly Mach 12. It didn't kill me (yet), but I'm pretty sure I'm maimed.

I never knew how not-typical my paper writing process is until I've hit upon this little step in the process we over here at my fine institution of learning call "Special Fields." There will be plenty on that to follow, but for quick explanation's sake here, it's a massive literature review. Now, normally, I would sit down roughly two days before a major paper was due and just write--from beginning to end. I would not have any notes written, I would not have a formalized structure, I would not really need to go back and add anything. This was a time-tested (and successful, I might add) process. I've never written a perfect paper, but I've rarely seen feedback that suggested this procedure might be a problem.

As living, breathing proof standing here before you and god I'm saying aloud (on virtual paper): This procedure might be a problem. The hundreds of titles I've had to organize make my old paper-writing process completely absurd. The key to this step is the outline, the organization of this massive amount of material already written. And I have to keep turning it in! In multiple drafts! (Also note here that my former procedure basically mocks any suggestion of drafting...I just have never done it....and now I know why...I hate it.)

In theory, this outlining shouldn't be so difficult. I've always done it, just in my head and in somewhat of a linear fashion. Because of my usual time constraint, I generally settle on a "tack" pretty quickly and go. This process of shaping and molding a system of organization of these ideas makes me think I'm not ever intended to do anything clay-related; I am not a sculptor. But I think I need to become one.

Hopefully, this outline for this culture paper is almost getting done. I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with the nausea. On the other hand , the process wasn't useless. I came up with a much better, more interesting strategy than I would've ever had. But , oh, the cost.

[Sigh.]

Sleep, Elusive Sleep

2009-03-24T11:35:00.000-05:00

There are chapters I could write (and probably will) about the weirdness of school once you get out of the wonderfully safe and cozy confines of the classroom. I find myself dreaming of that day in school that, in the moment, used to stress me out: syllabus day.

Oh the glory of imposed structure. You'd get a document (in graduate school, those suckers were basically books unto themselves, often twice or thrice stapled to ensure maximum security of pages) and you'd be off to the races. Oh the simplicity and easiness of the task, laid out right there for ya, by date.

But, you know, I'll accept that dream any day because this post is not about syllabi or structure but my inability to get enough sleep these days. Now before you go ahead and jump down my throat for daring to suggest that a student life is one of the best things ever, understand me. I'm not complaining about a lack of time. I'm grousing about my own psyche and its inability to be productive before 9pm on any given night. I'm not sure how this happened but I am fully at the mercy of a late-night brain. Which makes the early-morning work world show up ahead of schedule every single day.

So, since I've committed myself to getting this business done, I've been getting about 4 hours of sleep a night...Last night, I was up until 1am...outlining (which has become the nastiest word in any of the romance languages...I'd prefer never to speak it). Now my eyelids are hanging at half mast and I'm trying to focus my brain on other things. It's not easy. The focusing...um...what was I saying....

Right, focusing.

I'm hoping once writing commences, this will at least get more enjoyable. Until then, I'm planning on cramming in about 3-4 hours of quality sleep a night. I can now achieve REM sleep on command. And that alarm--it might not survive this process. That's gonna be day-to-day.

Welcome To the Tent

2009-03-23T17:04:00.000-05:00

This blog is dark. Much like I feel in the process of my dissertation. Nothing but darkness. Searching for the light. So I'm starting a blog. Random musings about what could be sometimes seriously brainy reflections. Every now and then (roughly every other minute), complaints and whining may appear. This is really just what I need to do to get this done.

No one told me a PhD would be this hard.