Please, Let Me, Let Me, Get What I Want, This Time

January 13, 2009 at 10:18 am (The Albatross, Work)

Just got off the phone with the chair of sociology as Sans Souci College.  She likes my resume.  Six faculty members retired over the past 2 years and she is alone in the department.  She wants an urbanist who studies education and ethnicity to help take the dept. in the direction she envisions.

I could be that urbanist.

I was hoping to adjunct there, but there isn’t anything available this semester.  She seems so hot for me I think she might bump someone to get me in there.  She’s even offered to have me team-teach some of her courses.

This may be it.  Now I suppose it’s high time I finish that darned dissertation.

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Bonnes Nouvelles

March 27, 2008 at 11:25 am (anthropology, The Albatross)

J’ai trouvé quelqu’un pour faire mes transcriptions.  La these, elle pourrait être finie cette année!

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Rock Star, Now with Groupies!

December 4, 2007 at 10:13 am (The Albatross)

DC was marvelous.  The drive down was easy-peasy, except for a not-quite-correct, but by no means wrong, turn onto New York Avenue (we were aiming for Pennsylvania).  We spent an hour in a confusing tunnel as our penance, and eventually ended up at the hotel.  It helps to have a Navigatrix.

For those of you who wondered, yes I finished my paper in time.  I was even able to sleep 2 hours the morning of the presentation.  The presentation took place in a small hospitality room way in the back of the convention hotel.  It was a strange hodge-podge of a panel, culled together from various individual papers that had nothing more in common than “Europe.”  The moderator served only as a human stop-watch, and offered no overarching commentary to link the papers together.

Most of the other presentations were forgettable.  In fact, two of the presenters are interchangeable in my memory of the event.  A lone man presented, and I cannot recall anything about his paper beyond the word “Galicia,” which is the only thing I could make out, even though I was sitting in the front row.

Other presentations (there were seven presentations to be given in and hour and 45 minutes.  Insane!) were very good.  I never, ever thought I could give a crap about land use in Latvia, but I learned a lot about the struggles organic farmers have with the local government now.  The presentation on the recognition of Irish as a legitimate minority language in the UK was illuminating as well.

But, let it be known that I rocked the house.  My paper was, in fact, too long, and I had to cut out what for me was the most interesting part: the methods the police use to profile suspected offenders on the subway.  Nevertheless, my paper was well-received.  At the close of the session, a French anthropologist came up to me and praised me for “taking the argument further than most discussions of this topic.”  That was especially gratifying.  (I would have lingered in conversation with him longer but j’ai du pisser comme un cheval de course.)

The next day, Superfudge and I were roaming through the Sackler Wing at the Smithsonian.  We entered the Whistler Room and three bright-eyed young people bounded up to me.  “We were at your presentation yesterday!  Yes, we heard your paper.  Yours was the best!”

I’ll be sure to wear my sunglasses at next year’s annual meeting.

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Disturbing Dreams

October 26, 2007 at 11:25 am (Entertainment, The Albatross)

My subconsious is sending me some pointed messages this week.  Some are obvious.  Some are incredibly cryptic.

Dream 1.  I’m in a room full of intellectual types.  We’re at a conference.  I comment on the presentation that just took place and someone in the audience asks about my own research.  I reply, and she scoffs at me, “Oh, that?  Everyone’s writing about that.  Even people who know nothing about it have books out on the subject now.  So-and-so has written a book, and Blah-de-blah has written some articles.  Everyone and their mother has jumped on this bandwagon.” 

Dream 2.  I’m in a large warehouse store, like Costco or Price Club.  Or maybe it’s a giant Sears.  I’m killing time, waiting for the person I came with to finish whatever it is they’re doing there–either shopping or working, I don’t remember.  What I DO remember is running into Shaquille O’Neal and kissing him by the riding mowers.  I also remember thinking, “This is awful.  I can just hear TragicCrusade saying ‘I told you so!'”  Shaquille O’Neal had very soft lips. [FYI, I have never, ever in my life, had ANY thoughts, romantic or otherwise, about Shaquille O’Neal. ]

Dream 3.  A gangster, a la the Sopranos, in a business suit comes up to me in a public park and starts strangling me in front of scores of onlookers.  I can’t break his grip, and no one responds when I ask them to call 911.

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More Good News

August 31, 2007 at 1:12 pm (The Albatross)

Now that my social life is progressing in strange and wonderful ways, it seems that my professional career is falling into place, too.   I just got a call for a part-time teaching job.  And not a moment too soon, because I’ve depleted my savings on dating site subscriptions and sexy shoes.

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Riding the Social Science Train

August 27, 2007 at 4:17 pm (The Albatross)

Guess which brilliant young (ahem) anthropologist will be presenting a paper about social and geographic exclusion in the Parisian public transportation system at the AAA annual meeting.  (Hint: she is too full of social science.)   Washington, DC, here I come!

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The Carrot and the Stick

June 27, 2007 at 7:06 pm (The Albatross)

Because I have decided to regress into childhood this week, my boss has come up with a reward system to get my to finish the first draft of the Dissertation That Will Not Die (hereafter known as “the dis,” since it mocks itself at me constantly) by the end of next month. I have to show her a detailed plan of action and schedule for completion tomorrow. If I am a good girl and do my homework over the weekend, she will make me a pair of earrings. Ooh, a sparkly!

We have not negotiated punishment, probably because I punish myself enough.

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