Just when you thought I was done with academic nonsense...

Bugger, bugger, bugger. Totally spaced on the fact that I agreed to present my paper from the Who Conference at the Rosemont Grad Conference. Which is, um, this Saturday.

Normally this wouldn't be such a terrible or awful thing, except: (1) I have eleventy frillion things going on this weekend, including Midsummer Ritual, Tree and Al's going away party, and going home to Lebanon for the annual Father's Day Hersey Park Trip. (2) I am waaaay behind in my revisions of the paper for the book. Which was due a few weeks ago. What can I say? I'm pulling a Doc. ANYWAY, the book people know it's late and that I'm still working on it and whatnot, but Sarah wants to read the paper well before Saturday and offer suggestions for further rewrites, which hahahahahaha, I love her optimism.

All of this is putting it plainly to me that I do not want to pursue a PhD any time in the near future as I loathe this style of writing. Doc and I had a conversation about it a month or two ago where I asked him if he enjoyed academic writing. He enthusiastically responded that he did. No, not me. I have the worst time wrapping my head around it. I like to be able to have style and flair and an easy conversational tone in my writing. Working on this rewrite puts me right back into the same struggle I had when I initially wrote the paper and it's entirely frustrating. I feel stagnant and lost and unable to articulate myself properly; it's just maddening. I tried to express this to the Doc and he seemed to understand what I was going through and offered me a number of suggestions. He also reminded me that he's been an academic writer for a long time and that it doesn't come to you over night. Still, working on this makes me want to claw at my skin in despair.

ANYWAY, for those that missed the Welsh version, I will be presenting my paper again at Rosemont this Saturday, time TBA. I'm almost more nervous about presenting it this time around because I will actually know people and have to face them afterward, plus I don't want to disappoint Sarah. But if I blow major chunks, I am comforted that I will have a party to attend afterward that will have alcohol to comfort me, not to mention a super-cute little lady to cheer me.

In the meantime, my car is in the shop. I need to get a haircut. I'd like to shop for some new ritual attire. I have my final(!) dentist appointment tomorrow. I'm going to see the New York Dolls on Thursday. I have, like, 14 blog updates to do to recap recent adventures to Llama-palooza, going to see Cinematic Titanic (OMG, hilarious, amazing and made my life), and Six Flags. Stay tuned.

Damn it feels good to be a Master

I sort of can't comprehend that I'm DONE with school, for good. Or at least for awhile, so I can pay down some of these damned loans I've accrued over the past 2.5 years.

Somewhere in my head, I keep forgetting that it's all over and that I don't have to register for classes or schedule my social life around school work. I forget that I won't be heading to Rosemont 2 or 3 nights a week and I can watch TV like a normal person.

Graduation was nice. Thankfully, the rain held off so my extended family could attend the ceremony. I hid cookies in my pointy sleeves and shared some Irish coffee with Shawn. Our speaker was good, or at least better than my undergraduate speaker, who sucked royally and told us we were all over-privileged snots.

So...now what do I do with myself? I'm not sure. The obvious thing is to move forward in my career somewhat. I saw the Doc, Dr. McCormick* and Dr. Frechie last night and one by one all of them asked, When are you getting your PhD?

Currently, I have no desire whatsoever to write a dissertation. Nor do I know what I would get my PhD in. So I think I'm done with higher education. But never say never. In 5 years I could get itchy britches and suddenly might find myself hankering for another degree. We'll see what happens.

The rest of my weekend was spent housing people at trivia, helping out the Doc, crashing dinner parties, and seeing Star Trek, which I loved.

This morning when I came into work, I found my cube decorated with balloons, Congratulations streamers chris-crossing my chair and a cake on my desk. In the Production room there was a large banner reading "Class of 2009, To the MASTER: Congratulations!"

I'll say it again: Damn, it feels good to be a Master.

One real photo in my cap and gown:



*Dr. McCormick is LEAVING Cabrini and headed back to Texas! I'm heartbroken!

Recaps and Reassurances

So, to sum-up: My thesis is done. My woes with financial aid are sorted. Come Saturday those suckers at Rosemont will be conferring a degree upon me and you shall all have to call me "Master." The only thing slightly troubling is that as of this afternoon, I'm still showing an "incomplete" for my thesis. But as I have to go to the school tomorrow to pick up my cap and gown (!), I'll pop in on my adviser and make sure everything is in order.

I'm feeling better, by the way. Not 100%, but getting there. I'm not sure what my issues are, exactly, but having a lot of stuff to do helps me plow through them. Being busy never hurts. And maybe that's been my problem these past months: I've been busy, sure, but it's been a solitary, stationary busy instead of my usual running around like nuts busy.

I also came to the realization that I've been pretty hard on myself lately: I've been feeling bad about being mediocre and psyching myself out about how untalented I am and whatnot. I don't know what spawns this, but I basically gave myself a mindfuck. I compare and contrast myself to other photographers, or writers, or designers and sabotage my work before I even begin.

But then, good things happen: I designed a few pieces for my thesis and I really like them and feel good about them. I finally finished a zine, which is something I've wanted to do since 2005. I had an excellent photo session with Made in China, I'm so so pleased with how crisp and sharp those photos came out. And I just spent the last 2 days getting trained in Dreamweaver, and now I'm all kinds of inspired to create beautiful websites for you all*, starting with a Dalek-Hippo site for Renee.

So everything that happens will happen today. And tomorrow and the day after that, too.

*Once I, um, get a copy of the program for myself.

It's my birthday, but I'm giving you a present

Apropos of nothing. Just makes me giggle.



My God, I'm 28. I'm celebrating my birthday by finishing my thesis.

Internet, let's play dress-up

Here's the deal: Against my better judgment, I've agreed to take part in a one-night-only performance of a one-act play written by one of my Rosemont peers. I say "against my better judgment" because I've protested being cast considering that I:

1. Can not act
   
2. Will be unable to get the lines out without laughing, because they're hilarious, and
   
3. Have to "cry" and be "frightened" with a certain degree of authenticity.

You see, a few months ago I took part in a script in hand reading of another play written by a Rosemont grad, and that apparently cemented me as an "actress." Which, let me repeat, I am not. There's a bit of a difference between reading with some inflection and actually, you know, acting. Still, Jillian, the playwright, implored me to take part in her show. "I have the perfect part for you! It's small! You'll like it!"

Of course I show up to the first table reading and discover that I've been cast as the whiny strumpet. I have to tart it up all over the place and plaster myself on the men in the cast. I have to say ridiculous lines with conviction and defend my character's erotic poetry. I have to CRY on DEMAND. Thanks a lot, Jillian.

ANYWAY, considering that I will suck for the duration, I might as well suck while looking good. Which brings me to the dress up: I need your help picking my costume.

The play takes place in the 1930s at a party. I've discovered, however, that the majority of 1930s dresses are slinky and dowdy, neither of which seems suitably sex-potish for an erotic poet nor anything that would particularly flatter my body type. Since we're not being entirely period, I'm drifting a bit more towards the 40s wear. And while Rosemont has offered to cover the expense of the costume, provided they can keep the dress afterward, I've decided to just buy it for myself, seeing that I have weddings to attend later in the year and will need a dress for those occasions.

Here are our choices:

The "Stop Staring Lula" Dress.



I like this dress. Swanky, sultry, shows off curves. Good for post-show wear as "little black dress" staple.

The Stop Staring True Blue Dress.



I love, love, LOVE this sweet little dress. However, I feel it might be a little too sweet and also creeping too close to the 50s for the purposed of this show.

The Stop Staring Red Lana Dress



Vampy! However, I'm worried about the crossing fabric across the bust line, which traditionally doesn't look good on me.

The Red Siren Dress



I like this one, but it feels a bit dressed down for the purposes of the show. Like, I need something a bit more fancy. For a point of reference, the men in the show will be wearing tuxes. So I feel like I might need to gussy up a bit more. Something like...

The Lace Maria Dress



Va-va-va-vooom! I like this one a lot. I'm just worried about looking, uh, too thick in it, you know. But the site seems to imply that they make the dresses for girls of all sizes (Bless you, Daddy-Os!), I'm just hesitant because internet shopping for clothes is always tricky.

So there are your choices. Let the voting begin! And feel free to suggest alternatives that you find on that site or elsewhere.

Oh, and for anyone who wants to come see me make an ass out of myself, the performance of "Murder!" a One-Act Murder Mystery/Comedy is on March 21, Rosemont's Main Building, 8PM, FREE.

My pants, they are very fancy

So get this craziness:

Remember the conference? Well. They're making a book of the conference proceedings and my paper is one of the ones they've selected for publication.

I KNOW.

Pardon me while I go off and Squuuuuuueeeeeeeee. And then bury my ass in revisions. Oh man, I have a lot of work to do.

Yay or Nay?

I'm taking a poll here, you guys. Should I go to AWP in Chicago in February?

PROS

• It's in Chicago! Visiting with Renee, Joe!, and Wildman.
  
• I've never been to Chicago, and it would be nice.
  
• Gives me a chance to shmooze with fellow academics and such.
  
• Maggie will probably be there.
  
• Chance to bond with Rosemont folk.
  
• There's most likely going to be some good networking for the publishing industry there too. Which I need.
  
• There seems to be some good-looking panels and what-not.

CONS

• It's Chicago. In February. Brrr.
  
• I have to take time off work, after just taking 3 weeks off to go to UK.
  
• Technically, I'm not in a writing program. Or even a writer per se.
  
• I sort of can't afford it. Well, maybe I could. I don't know.
  
• I'll probably be heading to Chicago again a month later for St. Patrick's Day debauchery

RESPONSES TO THE CONS

• Suck it up, woman
  
• Yeah, well. It's not like I don't have the vacation time
  
• So what?
  
• I could probably arrange to stay with Renee and Joe! or Wildman, saving some moneys, so all I'd really have to pay for is my conference fees, flight, and food.
  
• Again, so what?

What do you guys think?

Some things

QK is now 30 years old, and hot damn.

I made this cake, as well as this one, again. Both turned out excellent, and coupled with the carrot cake that Becky made, means QK got one cake for each decade of her life.

I really, really wanted to be all kinds of crazy and drinky on Saturday night, but the start of a nasty cold/sinus infection prevented me from helping QK down that magnum of champagne the way I really wanted to. Instead, it left me grumpy and sitting on the couch.

And really, this cold/sinus thing can go fuck off already. I ended up calling out of work yesterday (Renee: shut up) mostly due to that (shut up) and the lack of sleep I received (shut up) and today I sound like a gross fog horn blowing my nose every five seconds and my lips are all chapped and weird and ew ew ew. Aside from all that, I feel generally OK though, but the whole ordeal makes me feel annoyed and decidedly unsexy. Still, Renee cooked me dinner of chicken and dumplings last night and let me lay on her couch all snotty and pathetic to watch Heroes, which OMG.

Wales is a MONTH away, as the Economist was so kind to remind me. Because I'm not STRESSING THE FUCK OUT as is.

So an update: I have begun work on the paper. Passport is hung up on a tiny hiccup that should be resolved today. Credit card is ready to purchase tickets. I'm not in the best of shape, but things are progressing. However, this news has made me bummed, as Paul Cornell was one of the people I was looking most forward to meeting. Still, it's going to be a good time regardless, and there are plenty of other cool Who people around.

Sometimes I need to remind myself this is really happening

...And remind myself to get to work already. Because:


REGISTRATION IS OPEN.


Yeah.


Yeeeeaaaah.

I think Rosemont should pay my registration fees. What do you think?

Because I can never *not* be in school

I think I know what I might be doing after I'm done with my Master's degree.

And also: EEEEEE!

Discussion of Doctor Who is strictly academic.


Holy shit, I need to get my ass together on this. Like, NOW.

Cardiff Calling

I don't even know how to begin to talk about this coherently. I am going to type 13 words. 13 words that may well be the most dramatic in the history of this blog:

My abstract was accepted to the academic conference. I am going to Wales.

I KNOW. I've done approximately 17,457 happy dances thus far. I can't stop grinning. That sound you hear? Is the sound of me SQUEEEEEEEEEEing.

I can't even begin to describe the adrenaline and excitement coursing through me right now. I've been longing to go to the UK for ages, and now it's finally happening.

I have to say, it's an excitement underscored with a bit of fear. I've never done anything like this. I have to attend an academic conference, present my paper in front of a panel and then defend it. Holy shit.

Stephanie and I were talking on GChat:

STEPHANIE: What is the date for Wales?

KATIE: It's November 14-16

STEPHANIE: eeeek!

KATIE: I KNOW

STEPHANIE: you need to start writing!

KATIE: I KNOW

STEPHANIE: like, yesterday

KATIE: I am terrified, but stoked

STEPHANIE: let the terror guide you
and drive you to finish

KATIE: Well that worked for the abstract
So if I follow the same plan, I'll be finishing the paper on the plane

KATIE: I can't wrap my mind around this

STEPHANIE: not for the first time, doctor who has broken your brain

KATIE: I am going to the post office today to get passport forms
Look what you've gotten me into, Stephanie!

STEPHANIE: you'll thank me later

STEPHANIE: you should get knighted or some shit while we're there
then when you come to my house
you really would be a fancy guest

KATIE: for serious
Dame Katie of TARDIS

Then Renee and I majorly geeked out together:

RENEE: SQUEEEEEEEEEE! I am so proud of you, lady
So proud! I'm dancing around my cube right now.

KATIE: I've danced around my entire office

RENEE: lol

KATIE: I CAN'T SIT STILL I am both excited and terrified

RENEE: It will be fine. We will spend the summer prepping.
And stalking Terry Jones.

KATIE: I am going to be standing in front of a PANEL of SERIOUS ACADEMICS, DEFENDING MY PAPER

RENEE: It will be fine. It will be awesome. It will be like falling in love.

KATIE: I am falling in love with Wales I am only buying a one-way ticket. I will stay there for the rest of my days

RENEE: lol We need to plan!!! Oh, I'm so excited.
Positively geeked. I'm sure between me and Stephanie we will have you überprepared.
You will be supersexy and Whovians will be falling at your feet! Sorry. I just geeked out at ninety words per minute there.

KATIE: I AM SO GEEKED OUT AND DYING OVER HERE

RENEE: Why are we not together right now to squeal like 12-year-olds while jumping in a circle?

KATIE: I don't know. But my life will not be complete until we do this.

RENEE: passes out

KATIE: For real

RENEE: <3

KATIE: I am grinning like an idiot

RENEE: Faint

KATIE: I KNOW. And I have 3 weeks of vacation time saved up

RENEE: Nice

KATIE: so I am probably going to go for 2 weeks at least

RENEE: lol. Don't get knocked up!

KATIE: I'll get knocked up 14 times and need 14 abortions

RENEE: lol (That's the price of a ticket there and back at least 7 times.)

KATIE: (that joke was in poor taste, and I apologize. BUT I DON'T CARE BECAUSE I AM GOING TO CARDIFF)

RENEE: It's okay. I just had to look at an amputated baby arm, but that's okay, cuz you are going to Cardiff! And I'm stalking Pythons.

KATIE:And I am stalking every bloke with an accent

This is going to be so rad, you guys.

See how I run

Last week at this time I was doing what I believe is known as, "Losing my Shit All Over the Place." I basically had ten million, frillion, septillion things to do, most with a Saturday deadline, so I was spazzing out everywhere.

I am pleased to say -- with a little help from friends -- I managed to get everything done that needed to get done. Huge, immense, incredible thanks go out to Tammi who did me the gigantic favor of taking my art to the gallery (Ok, ok, ok -- it's totally just a bar with art hanging on the walls. WHATEVER. THEY CALL THEMSELVES A GALLERY, SO I WILL TOO) on time for the drop off so that I could attend my cousin's graduation party.

Speaking of which, graduation party turned into Cousin-Palooza '08 with representation from all sides and factions of the family; it was lovely. Cousins are so awesome, and I can't tell you how much I enjoy and love all of my cousins' company. I feel lucky to be so close to them all, if not geographically then at least personally. Even more rad: I'll get to see most of them again at the end of the month when fellow cousin and Bishop (Oh, Cousin Bishop, as Carl would say) has his 25th anniversary of ordination. It's going to be fabulous.

The biggest accomplishment is that I got that fragging abstract done. I got it in right under the deadline at 11:49pm on Saturday. It was all kind of slapdash -- If you remember, I originally did paper on Hegel and Lacan, then the Doc advised me to just focus on one of the philosophers. So I chose Hegel, thinking that he would give me more to work with. I struggled all week long with this stupid abstract, really having issues with both the writing style and Hegel's philosophy (oh god, I HAAAAAATE Hegel -- he's impossibly dense and cerebral) and feeling quite discouraged. Then, at the Rosemont Reading on Friday night (which went really well, by the way, I got a good response on what I read), one of my fellow readers read a piece called, "Sarah Died From Her Lacanian Struggle" a fictional short story inspired be the Critical Theory class she and I both took, the class that spawned this paper in the first place. You guys, that story was exactly what I needed to hear. So at the eleventh hour, I changed my mind again and decided to focus solely on Lacan. So Saturday -- on the ride to my cousin's graduation -- I rewrote my abstract. I didn't run it by the Doc or anyone, I just sent it in. I don't think I did it properly, writing style-wise, but writing in a serious academic fashion is so difficult, and writing in serious academic fashion while still feeling like it was "my own" is darn near impossible. So I took a breath, trusted my gut and natural writing instincts and just did it. I have no idea if it will be accepted, but if it's not I'm OK with that. A lot of this exercise was about trying something new, putting myself out there. I did the best I could, and I am satisfied with myself. The bigger picture now is figuring out how to get myself to Ireland/the UK, because deep down, that's what this is really about. Omen-wise, this post of dorky Lacan jokes appeared on McSweeney's the same day. Which I don't take as an omen that I'll get to the conference, rather that I did the right thing writing about Lacan.

Meanwhile, summer classes continue to be crazy. My company's softball team continues to rock -- they're 6–0 right now. I may have finagled myself as a correspondent for Montgomery County Newspapers (I know. What? How did that happen? The editor for Ticket is my teacher for my summer class, and he invited me to do a few articles, that's how. Sadly, unpaid. Gotta start somewhere, I guess). Mike's girlfriend has temporarily moved in with us. I've told Gary he can move in with me come fall. (YEAH. What have I gotten myself into? This could be either incredibly bad or incredibly awesome. We'll find out which.) I've got another wedding this weekend, so it's home home home, and of course, more photos. Art show is TOMORROW NIGHT and I couldn't be more stoked. I hope to see you all there! You're coming, right? You're all invited! Come on, you know you want to drink booze with me and help me pretend I'm a famous artist!

It's a crazy, wild time I'm having this summer. I kind of like it.

Honorably, honorable, Thank you!

Last night at the Graduate Art Show, I won an award!

I got an honorable mention, which sounds less impressive than it really is. Seeing as there are only two awards given -- The Beginner Award and The Advanced Award. The only award I was eligible for was The Advanced Award, and according to the judges, it was a dead heat between me and the student who won. And I sort of agree that the student who won The Advanced Award did something worth recognizing more than me. She took photos of a cat toy, an aloe plant, and a toilet plunger and made an entire undersea scene from those objects. She and I have very different aesthetics, and I had a larger body of work displayed, but her work took her a long time, was tedious to do, and was particularly imaginative. So I'm glad she won.

Plus, I got SO MANY compliments last night, I almost feel like I won the actual award. Two separate judges came up to me and offered to buy my work. And Liz, the head of the M.F.A. program asked if she could have copies for her new office. Here's the piece everyone seemed to like the most (ironically, one of my least favorites, due to some resolution problems):



That piece also printed out poorly -- all dark and the colors were off -- so I was particularly surprised that this was the piece people liked so much. Originally, I did it for the "Surrealism" project for my digital imaging class.

Also nice last night was hearing the M.F.A. students read their work. I was requested (again) to read at the reading at the end of the month (even though I'm not an M.F.A. student), and received a really nice comment from one of the M.F.A. students -- "You're the only M.A. student who consistently supports the M.F.A. program and tries to bridge the gap between the two departments. I love that about you!"

Much was said last night about community at Rosemont, and I have to agree. I am always impressed and inspired by my peers, unknowingly they encourage me to buckle down and refine my craft -- whatever "craft" I'm trying to hone in on that day, be it writing, design, editing, whatever. It's so nice to have a support system like that, even if they are unaware that they're doing that for me. I need to spend more time with them, and take a more active role in Rosemont programs, I think. It's not like I exactly have the time, but it's good for me.

My teacher from my Critical Theory Class (of DOOM) from last semester was there and she zeroed in on me about my Hegel/Lacan/Doctor Who paper that I need to revise by the end of the month so that I can submit it to that conference in Wales. She very helpfully offered to help me revise the thing, and if I were not going to a wedding this weekend, I would be pseudo-presenting what I have of the paper at a mock conference at Rosemont this weekend as practice. I need all of you to get on my case next week for applying the seat of my pants to a chair and WORK ON THAT FRAGGING PAPER. I am rapidly running out of time to dally with this thing.

The Design of Dissent Democracy.

I haven't been talking about school much in this space, mainly because this semester is a complete 180° from last semester. I'm taking two design classes, both of which are rather low-stress and practical (although I do need to get cracking on my presentation for my color theory class). My digital design class -- which was billed as both "advanced" and "includes InDesign," but is neither -- has been a bit ho-hum as I am light years ahead of most of my classmates and the class functions as a lab. Meaning no lectures, discussions, or critiques, just us sitting at our stations doing our work.

Our "work" is to complete 5 projects by the end of the semester. One of the project ideas given to us was to create these "Vote" posters: posters to inspire the 18-25 crowd to take part in the voting process. To be a bit rabble rousing, if you will. I've made several posters. But just today I stumbled across something very cool.

Power to the Poster.

Very cool. I can't wait to see what else they come up with as the site grows.

Don't look a gift semester in the mouth

I got a B+ in that Critical Theory class. I know I should be happy because it was a difficult-ass class that nearly BROKE my BRAIN, in addition to working full time in the middle of the Editorial Conference, yadda yadda yadda. But all I can think of is that I no longer have a 4.0 GPA.

Clearly, I need therapy.

Dead, dead, dead.

The semester is over.

*thud* Zzzzzzzzzz......


P.S. — Show Renee some love. Girlfriend just finished her thesis, and she is awesome. Unfortunately, I was late to her reading since my car decided to behave like a jackhole. Still, she killed. Way to rock it.

Midterm KILL ME

I managed to hand in my midterm complete and on time, although the jury is still out regarding my grade. Despite everyone comforting me and assuring me that they're sure I did fine, I'm concerned. This was some serious academic writing, and I would have enjoyed having more time to refine and clarify my statements. I'm sort of kicking myself for waiting so long to begin the process, but looking back, I'm not sure how I could have begun any sooner.

I've been struggling in this class from the very beginning. Critical Theory is not my forte, obviously. I've had a good deal of trouble comprehending the readings, and while I've been able to regurgitate the concepts, I've been unable to free-think my way through them. It wasn't until two weeks ago during class when lightening struck my brain and I was able to respond intelligently to a question posed by our teacher. The room fell silent as we all pondered the connection between Lacan and Hegel. Like a switch being flipped on and the room being flooded with light I suddenly saw it, I became so elated I clapped my hands and called out, "OH! I GET IT!"

I rattled out an answer and sounded so dead clever, I impressed myself.

A week later I received an email from my teacher asking if my epiphany in class would be my topic for my midterm. I laughed out loud. No bloody way I was writing about Hegel. Hate that fucker.

First of all, he's Out There. Second, no one reads him because his writing is so dense and impossible. Not helping is that it's been translated from damn German. Of course we had to not only read stuff written on Hegel's theories, we had to read the bugger ourselves. This led to about 40 aneurysms, 13 strokes, 9 temper tantrums and 4 crying jags. All by me. Take this passage, for example:

"Rather, the thing, the fact, is; and it is merely because it is. It is--that is the essential point for sense-knowledge, and that bare fact of being, that simple immediacy, constitutes its truth."

SERIOUSLY. Dear Hegel: Please find another verb besides "is." Also, what the hell you talking about? No love, 8K.

So yeah. When it came time to think of midterm topics, I made a broad statement to the two classmates I share a table with. "Under no circumstances am I writing about Hegel. I'm not that insane." My classmates, who thankfully seem to be just as lost as I am, nodded in agreement. To undertake Hegel is madness.

But as the days slipped by, I couldn't deny that the link between Hegel and Lacan was one of the few topics I could expound upon with any degree of certainty. But now I needed to apply that link to something.

"You should write about Doctor Who," Stephanie told me with a grin.

"Oh, I wish. But I can't. I need to apply it to Literature or Art or something."

But, the more I thought about Hegel and Lacan, the more I saw that Doctor Who was really an ideal example. Hegel's cognitive beings being robbed of the Now, for example. How can you have a Now when you're in a time machine? The Sliveen, Daleks, and Cybermen being the contradictions expelled along the Doctor's dialectical struggle. The Doctor's loss of his home planet and his people, an example of Lacan's loss of the Real. It was all making sense in my head. So I asked for permission from my teacher. Being a fan of Buffy, she understood dorky TV shows and agreed.

So yes, I wrote about Doctor Who for my midterm. Shut up.

SHUT UP, I say.

Here was my title: "How Soon is Now? Hegelian Philosophy, Lacanian Psychoanalysis and the Realm of Doctor Who." (I hope I get bonus points for The Smiths reference!)

Hours after finalizing my paper's topic I discovered via a LiveJournal Doctor Who community that a Doctor Who Symposium has just been announced for next fall at the University of Cardiff, as part of the celebration of the show's 45th anniversary. They'll be accepting papers shortly after the new year.

I've decided that this is an omen.

For better or worse, no matter what my grade, I'm going to refine, expand, and polish that paper and submit it to the symposium. Stephanie has already signed up to be my lady in waiting and travel with me. I am accepting one other lady in waiting, applications may be submitted directly to me (I'm looking at you, Renee).

Anyway. I pulled an all-nighter to get my paper completed, something I hope to never do again. I'm knackered. I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears. I have a field trip to the art museum with my Visual Literacy class tomorrow (where I have to give a small presentation) and then I have a blissful week off for Thanksgiving.

Of course, after Thanksgiving I have to begin working on my Critical Theory final. But as Scarlett O'Hara would say, I won't think about that now. I'll think about that tomorrow.

Jigsaw falling into place

OK, I need you all to think some amazing academic thoughts about me tonight, as I work on the final push of my midterm paper.

The good news is I finally have a topic, a title, and a cobbled-together thesis. The bad news is that my thesis needs to be more fluid, my transitions suck, and I have, like, 11 more pages to write. And also? The subject matter is really fucking hard.


I want you to know that this midterm is a lot more than a midterm. I'll explain later, but know that if I pull this off (and more importantly pull it off well) this paper could possibly lead to some amazing opportunities and experiences for me. I don't want to say too much and jinx myself.

This is probably one of the most difficult things I've done in my academic career. I need your good thoughts, pink bubbles, and smart vibes. Send them my way.

For shame!

I am a Very Bad Blogger. I know. I haven't posted pics from San Francisco yet (in fact, I haven't even uploaded them yet). I haven't been posting at all really. If I was posting, it would sound like one of the following:

1. Officially in the new position, woo! Liking it very much, woo!
   
   
2. Editorial Conference getting closer and closer and I want to EAT my FACE as I have to finish this fragging video project, yet really have no motivation to do so. Buggered if I'm doing this next year.
   
   
3. I have a shiny new computer at work, and I LOVE IT WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING.
   
   
4. Blah blah blah dorky Doctor Who blah blah blah Awesome-cakes blah blah want to go nipple to nipple with both Ninth and Tenth Doctor blah blah blah Russell T. Davies slayed me with the end of season two.
   
   
5. Wah wah wah wah School is breaking my head wah wah wah wah I'm not smart enough to be in grad school wah wah wah self-doubt-cakes.

So you're not missing much, yeah? Hopefully, if I can pull myself together, I'll have a Halloweeny post for you, but other than that, I'll be running around like Ricky the Idiot for the next two weeks.