That One Extra Box Makes a Big Difference!

My prospectus isn't shrinking! But it's not grown much either.  It's now 2 1/2 pages, which is about three quarters of a page more than I had yesterday.  I'm also now fairly certain that it will be five chapters long.  But blah, blah, blah...I find myself getting bored with this even as I write it.

So, anyway....  As I said in my last post, my chair is crazy awesome and probably the most brilliant woman I've ever met in person.  And because her brilliance is so, well, brilliant, I have a tendency to get very nervous and/or feel like a complete slacker in her presence.  I've lost count of the meetings we had where I felt like I spent the entire time babbling about what I hadn't yet done, making gross misreadings of texts, or generally feeling like an idiot.  Today we met to talk about some program called DS-PRO where I have to fill out my goals for the next year.  It's kind of a pain in the rear, but I have to say I like this program because it made me feel a little bit more accomplished than I did before.  Part of the program asks me to check off my "previously accomplished goals," which was nice because I have achieved things like finishing my course work, forming a committee, and taking my comprehensive exams.  But what was particularly nice was that beginning the research for my prospectus and beginning to write my prospectus were actually two separate goals.  So, in short, my 2 1/2 pages and tentative research and bibliography totally count as two separate separate goals!  So even though I really can't do one without doing the other, being able to check off that extra box as achieved made me feel pretty darn good.  And, in addition to honing my mad box checking skills,  I spent an hour writing my prospectus today (which is why it's now longer),  and I confronted a student who had plagiarized a paper, so all in all I feel like I've gotten stuff done today.

So, now I'm going to relax, watch some Murder, She Wrote, and, since my friend Rachael has decreed today Chocolate Cake Monday, eat some chocolate cake.  Imaginary readers of my blog, you go eat some chocolate cake too!  It is Chocolate Cake Monday after all.

My Dissertation is Killing Me! Or, at the very least, it's the bane of my existence.

Well, it's not killing me literally, but perhaps all of the stress it causes could potentially kill me.  And I might mention that I'm only in the baby stages--I'm still working on my prospectus, which is a whole two pages long (four if you count my tentative bibliography).  So I've got a long road ahead of me before I defend.  But the whole darn shebang is so stressful because I'm FRUSTRATED (so frustrated I had to put it in caps).  Because....I've got writer's block.  Writing my two pages was like pulling teeth.  And a dissertation is book length!  This trend just can't continue.

Maybe it's just this time of year.  The end of the semester is always stressful, and I feel like everyone is breathing down my back to get absolutely everything done--particularly my chair.  She's not really breathing down my back because she is crazy awesome, but there's a tiny version of her living in my head (wearing a a very bright multi-colored poncho) who's constantly telling me that I should drop whatever it is I'm doing to work on my prospectus.  .

I have a meeting with her on Monday.  She wants me to fill out some university computer program thing that's designed to help me set my goals, which at the time will seem super helpful (because I know I need guidelines and structure) but will cause me no end of stress later on.  And we'll probably talk about my prospectus too, which is shorter than it was the last time I talked to her because I took out the sucky parts.

I have to constantly remind myself that I VOLUNTEERED for this.  I love what I do, and there is nothing more that I want than to be an English professor so that I can spend my life sharing the literature I love with others.  But I'm not there yet, and I've got a long way to go.  So in the meantime, I'm going to watch Doctor Who, and not think about my prospectus until tomorrow because I've just now made a vow that I shouldn't work on it  or think about it on Saturday nights.

So, imaginary readers out there, you go enjoy Doctor Who too.  It's an awesome show, worthy of our love and adoration.

Review: The League of Extraordinary Gentleman, Vol. 1

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Vol. 1 by Alan Moore

My rating: 4 of 5 stars The story itself was interesting and engaging, and the plot and artwork had a cinematic sort of quality. I'm familiar with most of the literary references. I thought that the graphic novel was a clever and well thought out amalgamation of the imperial romances of the late 19th century (as well as a few other works). In fact this melding of late 19th century (mostly British) fiction into a new steampunkish sort of world is what I liked best. I wasn't, however, a huge fan of the artwork, but I think this was more a personal aesthetic preference than failing in the artwork--though I do think that overall it was well suited to the mood of the League of Extraordinary Gentleman. My preference for all things brightly colored wouldn't have worked so well with the tone of the graphic novel. Overall, a good read and well worth the time. View all my reviews >>

Crazy for Ghost Whisperer.

I have a sudden and inexplicable love of Ghost Whisperer.  I mean, I can't watch it enough.  Perhaps it's Jennifer Love Hewitt's crazy (but completely and totally awesome) clothes.

If only I had Melinda Gordon's chutzpah.  I could look this fabulous on an everyday basis.  And that would be pretty darn awesome. 

My "Boyfriends"

For some time now, I've had boyfriends" for different genres. For example:

• Movie boyfriend: Daniel Craig

• TV boyfriend: David Tennant

These two boyfriends were chosen because of their sexy hotness. However, a recent talk with a friend of mine has inspired me to widen both my genres and specifications. So I now have a poet boyfriend: Robert Browning. Yes, he's been dead for more than a century, but he wrote some really awesome poetry. How can you not like "My Last Duchess"? My novel boyfriend would be Mr. Darcy--well, because he's Mr. Darcy. Anyone who's read Pride and Prejudice would understand this. I think my options with this are endless. It's fun, and much less work than an actual relationship.

Downward to the depths of London

Deborah and I had a great time while she was here. We saw Equus (and now I can never think of the Harry Potter films in quite the same way), rode the London Eye, took a day trip to Bath, and went to an excessive number of museums. We spent so much time travelling on the tube that I definitely feel like a London subway pro. Some of the tube stations in London are quite old, dating back a century, and for some reason I found this incredibly fascinating (I still do actually; I'm totally going to the London Transport Museum the next time I go to London). I would get very excited when we found an old one. My absolute favorite was the Russell Square station, seen here.
At Russell Square, the trains apparently go and come far far under the ground. There is a sign at the top of the stairs directing passengers to the trains and under that is a small note informing you that these trains do their going and coming exactly 175 stairs underneath you. Since the queue at the lift was pretty long, Deborah and I decide to brave the stairs. These stairs are like a long spiral staircase to the depths of hell with periodic, but very picturesque tile signs, informing you that you are in fact approaching the train platform.
After what seemed to me that we had been walking since time began, we met a woman coming up the stairs. She was very out of breath, and she pitifully asks us if it's too terribly much farther to the top. We gave her some encouraging words and Deborah congratulated her on her fortitude for braving the stairs on the way up (and in high heels no less). But really, that staircase went on and on in a never ending downward spiral. I felt like I was in some sort of really bad Beckett play a la Waiting for Godot. But at last we (finally!) made it too the bottom and hopped a train back to the hotel.
The next evening we were at the Covent Garden stop, yet another really cool old station with yet another spiral staircase which the sign helpfully informed us was 193 steps long. Needless to say, we took the lift.
A week full of fun-ness in London and a staircase in a London tube station is my favorite anecdote.

The Universe really really hates me now.

I haven't posted anything lately because I haven't done anything terribly interesting. I've been pretty sick the last two weeks. I've been stuck in my room for days, so the most exciting thing I've done is read Lady Audley's Secret and swoon over Paul Bettany in Wimbledon.
Unfortunately I had a relapse of some sort today, so I'm starting to get sick all over again. I've made numerous pitiful phone calls to my mother, who is a saint to listen to me whine and complain about how much my throat hurts. I'm trying to look on the bright side though. Being stuck in my room so much means that when I'm awake I can get lots of reading done. I figure I can get quite a bit of my reading done well before my classes next week. And my mom is always there to listen to my pitiful complaints. It's always nice to have a sympathetic ear, especially when I'm so far away from home.