Courtesy of Thom Peters.
One of those guys sounds just like Wallace. This is exactly something he'd do, too!
March 20, 2009
March 10, 2009
Reprieve!
I am writing this at 1:30pm on Tuesday, March 10th. Sitting at home in my comfy chair. This is significant.
My comps defense has been deferred for a month, at my request! Woo-hoo! I hesitated to ask for it, since I've done 95% of the work already and I want the professors to know I take this seriously. But my health just hasn't been up to snuff lately -- not just back pain, which has been bothering me a bit more in the past week or so, but these strange dizzy spells have really been doing a number on me. I had a dizzy spell right in the middle of a meeting with my dissertation advisors; I lowered my head, fanned myself with a nearby journal article, and tried to keep talking calmly about assessment measures and statistical methods. (Both my co-chairs watched me silently with that "deer-in-headlights" look men seem to be so prone to at the sight of a woman in physical distress or tears.)
It's been happening more and more often, sadly. I don't really come close to fainting, but it's darn inconvenient and unpleasant. Plus, it affects my thinking, alertness, and reaction time. Periodically I feel like the monitor screen in my brain flickers in and out. Nooot the best time to try to stand up to the onslaught of aggressive attempts by two professors to tear my thesis apart. (The third one is mostly a teddy bear. I have no fears about him. He's the type who asks a question and then gives you half the answer.) I told the department chair that I would end up either bursting into tears (did I mention I've been hyper-emotional lately, too?) or staring blankly at the professors while I slowly processed the sounds hitting my ear into a coherent expression of intent.
Happily, I was told "no problem at all." Phew! What a weight off my mind. Now I just look forward to a road trip, seeing the family, and spending several days in the mountains!
My comps defense has been deferred for a month, at my request! Woo-hoo! I hesitated to ask for it, since I've done 95% of the work already and I want the professors to know I take this seriously. But my health just hasn't been up to snuff lately -- not just back pain, which has been bothering me a bit more in the past week or so, but these strange dizzy spells have really been doing a number on me. I had a dizzy spell right in the middle of a meeting with my dissertation advisors; I lowered my head, fanned myself with a nearby journal article, and tried to keep talking calmly about assessment measures and statistical methods. (Both my co-chairs watched me silently with that "deer-in-headlights" look men seem to be so prone to at the sight of a woman in physical distress or tears.)
It's been happening more and more often, sadly. I don't really come close to fainting, but it's darn inconvenient and unpleasant. Plus, it affects my thinking, alertness, and reaction time. Periodically I feel like the monitor screen in my brain flickers in and out. Nooot the best time to try to stand up to the onslaught of aggressive attempts by two professors to tear my thesis apart. (The third one is mostly a teddy bear. I have no fears about him. He's the type who asks a question and then gives you half the answer.) I told the department chair that I would end up either bursting into tears (did I mention I've been hyper-emotional lately, too?) or staring blankly at the professors while I slowly processed the sounds hitting my ear into a coherent expression of intent.
Happily, I was told "no problem at all." Phew! What a weight off my mind. Now I just look forward to a road trip, seeing the family, and spending several days in the mountains!
March 7, 2009
Thoughts on female blogging, by Mr. Henry Tilney
I was looking for one particular quote (the last one below), but -- what the heck? Have them all!
"She was heartily ashamed of her ignorance. A misplaced shame. Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can."
***
"What am I to do?"
"You know what you ought to do. Clear your character handsomely before her. Tell her that you think very highly of the understanding of women."
"Miss Morland, I think very highly of the understanding of all the women in the world - especially of those - whoever they may be - with whom I happen to be in company."
"That is not enough. Be more serious."
"Miss Morland, no one can think more highly of the understanding of women than I do. In my opinion, nature has given them so much that they never find it necessary to use more than half."
***
"Yes, I know exactly what you will say [in your journal]: Friday, went to the Lower Rooms; wore my sprigged muslin robe with blue trimmings - plain black shoes - appeared to much advantage; but was strangely harassed by a queer, half-witted man, who would make me dance with him, and distressed me by his nonsense."
"Indeed I shall say no such thing."
"Shall I tell you what you ought to say?"
"If you please."
"I danced with a very agreeable young man, introduced by Mr. King; had a great deal of conversation with him - seems a most extraordinary genius - hope I may know more of him. That, madam, is what I wish you to say."
"But, perhaps, I keep no journal."
"Perhaps you are not sitting in this room, and I am not sitting by you. These are points in which a doubt is equally possible. Not keep a journal! How are your absent cousins to understand the tenour of your life in Bath without one? How are the civilities and compliments of every day to be related as they ought to be, unless noted down every evening in a journal? How are your various dresses to be remembered, and the particular state of your complexion, and curl of your hair to be described in all their diversities, without having constant recourse to a journal? My dear madam, I am not so ignorant of young ladies' ways as you wish to believe me; it is this delightful habit of journaling which largely contributes to form the easy style of writing for which ladies are so generally celebrated. Everybody allows that the talent of writing agreeable letters is peculiarly female. Nature may have done something, but I am sure it must be essentially assisted by the practice of keeping a journal."
"I have sometimes thought," said Catherine, doubtingly, "whether ladies do write so much better letters than gentlemen! That is - I should not think the superiority was always on our side."
"As far as I have had opportunity of judging, it appears to me that the usual style of letter-writing among women is faultless, except in three particulars."
"And what are they?"
"A general deficiency of subject, a total inattention to stops, and a very frequent ignorance of grammar."
***
[Margaret: I included those last three lines at the end of a paper I wrote two years ago for Dr. Scruton, too. I felt the paper needed some explaining...]
"She was heartily ashamed of her ignorance. A misplaced shame. Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can."
***
"What am I to do?"
"You know what you ought to do. Clear your character handsomely before her. Tell her that you think very highly of the understanding of women."
"Miss Morland, I think very highly of the understanding of all the women in the world - especially of those - whoever they may be - with whom I happen to be in company."
"That is not enough. Be more serious."
"Miss Morland, no one can think more highly of the understanding of women than I do. In my opinion, nature has given them so much that they never find it necessary to use more than half."
***
"Yes, I know exactly what you will say [in your journal]: Friday, went to the Lower Rooms; wore my sprigged muslin robe with blue trimmings - plain black shoes - appeared to much advantage; but was strangely harassed by a queer, half-witted man, who would make me dance with him, and distressed me by his nonsense."
"Indeed I shall say no such thing."
"Shall I tell you what you ought to say?"
"If you please."
"I danced with a very agreeable young man, introduced by Mr. King; had a great deal of conversation with him - seems a most extraordinary genius - hope I may know more of him. That, madam, is what I wish you to say."
"But, perhaps, I keep no journal."
"Perhaps you are not sitting in this room, and I am not sitting by you. These are points in which a doubt is equally possible. Not keep a journal! How are your absent cousins to understand the tenour of your life in Bath without one? How are the civilities and compliments of every day to be related as they ought to be, unless noted down every evening in a journal? How are your various dresses to be remembered, and the particular state of your complexion, and curl of your hair to be described in all their diversities, without having constant recourse to a journal? My dear madam, I am not so ignorant of young ladies' ways as you wish to believe me; it is this delightful habit of journaling which largely contributes to form the easy style of writing for which ladies are so generally celebrated. Everybody allows that the talent of writing agreeable letters is peculiarly female. Nature may have done something, but I am sure it must be essentially assisted by the practice of keeping a journal."
"I have sometimes thought," said Catherine, doubtingly, "whether ladies do write so much better letters than gentlemen! That is - I should not think the superiority was always on our side."
"As far as I have had opportunity of judging, it appears to me that the usual style of letter-writing among women is faultless, except in three particulars."
"And what are they?"
"A general deficiency of subject, a total inattention to stops, and a very frequent ignorance of grammar."
***
[Margaret: I included those last three lines at the end of a paper I wrote two years ago for Dr. Scruton, too. I felt the paper needed some explaining...]
March 6, 2009
Waxing poetic
...with apologies to Wm. Shakespeare.
Yes, clearly I'm avoiding getting started with work this morning, despite the firm, brave words about dedicating myself to the cause in my last post. Well, I just thought I'd post my thoughts about my comps (which I am avoiding) in iambic pentameter. What could be more worthwhile? [Yes, that was rhetorical. Don't answer that.]
Actually, I wrote this almost 15 years ago at the end of a school paper. I still like it.
...except they *won't* if I don't get on the stick (or, is it "off"?) and start working.
Yes, clearly I'm avoiding getting started with work this morning, despite the firm, brave words about dedicating myself to the cause in my last post. Well, I just thought I'd post my thoughts about my comps (which I am avoiding) in iambic pentameter. What could be more worthwhile? [Yes, that was rhetorical. Don't answer that.]
Actually, I wrote this almost 15 years ago at the end of a school paper. I still like it.
If this student has offended,
Think but this and all is mended --
That at least you slumbered well
Whilst this thesis we did tell,
And this weak and boring theme
No more yielding than a dream.
Teacher, do not reprehend --
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am a simple Jen,
and have with all unable pen,
If fairly wrought an answer here,
Let gentle countenance appear.
(Lest the student fail anon.)
And so I bid thee patience long!
Give us an "A" if we be friends;
Exams will all restore amends.
...except they *won't* if I don't get on the stick (or, is it "off"?) and start working.
Comps
This weekend I'm going to be shutting down all other activity that doesn't directly relate to my comps. The first wave of preparations involved getting the paper written, due about two weeks ago. After nearly killing myself working crazy-late hours for about a fortnight, I handed it in on time. I was supposed to hear back from the professors this week about whether they'll be giving me the thumbs-up to go ahead with the defense, scheduled for March 10th. (No word yet. If they don't tell me today... um, yeah. I got nothin' but empty threats. *sigh*) So I'm going to work on the assumption that they're just bowled over by the sheer genius of it and prepare for D-Day on Tuesday.
So, quick recap: the paper presented a case from initial intake through assessment, treatment planning, and therapy progress. Tuesday I will be given half an hour to make a professional presentation of the case (just as I would if I were working with a team at, say, a psychiatric hospital). I will then be grilled by three professors for about an hour, on everything from why I made a particular diagnosis given the unusual MMPI profile to how I envision the Catholic anthropological premises being played out in the dynamics of the person's psychic functioning. (...yeah, I know. Pompous, but it sounds good at cocktail parties.)
Well, I thought, in exchange for demanding that every single person who reads this blog pray for me at 1pm on Tuesday, I would leave you with some E.B. White. How I love his stuff.
So, quick recap: the paper presented a case from initial intake through assessment, treatment planning, and therapy progress. Tuesday I will be given half an hour to make a professional presentation of the case (just as I would if I were working with a team at, say, a psychiatric hospital). I will then be grilled by three professors for about an hour, on everything from why I made a particular diagnosis given the unusual MMPI profile to how I envision the Catholic anthropological premises being played out in the dynamics of the person's psychic functioning. (...yeah, I know. Pompous, but it sounds good at cocktail parties.)
Well, I thought, in exchange for demanding that every single person who reads this blog pray for me at 1pm on Tuesday, I would leave you with some E.B. White. How I love his stuff.
Up early today, trying to decide whether or not to bequeath our brain to our alma mater, which is making a collection of such stuff. It struck us as odd that the decision will have to be made by the brain itself and that no other part of us -- a foot or a gall bladder -- can be in on the matter, although all are, in a way, concerned. Our head is small, and we fear that our brain may suffer by comparison if arranged on a shelf with others. Spent part of the morning composing an inscription to go with our brain, but all we got was this:
Observe, quick friend, this quiet noodle,
The kit removed from its caboodle.
Here sits a brain at last unhinged,
On which too many thoughts impinged.
--"Daylight and Darkness" from The Second Tree from the Corner.
March 5, 2009
March 3, 2009
What he said
I just found it. This is why I find it so hard to keep a blog:
"If you write for God, you will reach many men and bring them joy. If you write for men, you may make some money and you may give someone a little joy and you may make a noise in the world, for a little while. If you write only for yourself, you can read what you yourself have written and after ten minutes you will be so disgusted, you will wish that you were dead." -- Thomas Merton, "New Seeds of Contemplation"
Amen, Brother.
"If you write for God, you will reach many men and bring them joy. If you write for men, you may make some money and you may give someone a little joy and you may make a noise in the world, for a little while. If you write only for yourself, you can read what you yourself have written and after ten minutes you will be so disgusted, you will wish that you were dead." -- Thomas Merton, "New Seeds of Contemplation"
Amen, Brother.
March 1, 2009
On a happier note...
...I just found this adorable video, set to a song sung by Edith Piaf:
Might help set the mood for spring!
Might help set the mood for spring!
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