life, apparently

I don't like dogs.

Now I know this will not earn me any likeability points, so let me explain myself. I grew up with dogs. Our first dog (apparently, I actually only remember seeing pictures of him) was named Demon. He was not exactly a friendly dog. The next dog I do remember. I also remember that my dad drove him far away and dropped him off hoping to get rid of him, but Buster returned. Repeatedly. Until the last time. Then there was the St. Bernard whose name I cannot remember. He was a big and sloppy dog. And he walked me into a tree. I guess that’s what happens when an 8 yr old walks a gynormous dog. Bear came sometime before or after the St. Bernard. Bear ate all of my Halloween candy and my shoes. My sister was attacked by a dog while we were delivering the newspaper back when the newspaper was delivered in the afternoon. She wasn’t badly hurt but it was a pretty terrifying experience (as you might imagine, she doesn’t like dogs either).

I am a freecycler

Because I can't seem to tie this together into a coherent paragraph, I'll will bullet-fy it (yes, you can borrow this word I'm sure it will come in handy someday).

• At BestGradSchoolEver teaching was not encouraged, but regarded as a waste of time. When BestAdvisorEver found out I was teaching to pay for a car, he told me I should have asked for a raise instead. He was not joking.
• There are few women in my area. Women tend to be the teachers and men the researchers. (I spent the spring reading books like this). I do not want to be a statistic.
  
• My experiences as a teacher have been traumatic.
• Teaching is hard and is not rewarded (in the departments/institutions that will likley hire me, assuming someone hires me).
• I love research.

• I don't like bad evaluations. I don't need a distinguished teaching award, but I want to be above average.
• Someone is working 2 jobs so their kid can be educated. Or, like myself, someone will be paying off loans for the next 20 years for the privelege of taking my class. And I respect that.
  
• I remember awful teachers. If I ran into AnthropologyProfWhoSpitsWhenHeTalks or ZoologyGradStudent today, I'd probably tell them that their class was a complete fucking waste of time.
  

So, you see I am all conflicted. I'm not very good at teaching, but I think I could be. But it will take some effort, which is ok, I think. But I do not want to be The Woman Who Teaches.

I decided to teach this fall because I want to stop looking horrified when they ask me if I'd like to teach Intro during a job search. Or even worse, when I say "hmmm?" when they ask "How would you teach Intro to My Area for students at Bliss Univ?" My gut reaction is to say WTF, I don't know and I don't care?

I want to enjoy teaching. I want to be above average. I want to be able to say that my first few courses were a disaster because I was young and inexperienced. I do not want to replay them every semester.

Isolation U is a very well known school for undergrads. They have a very active teaching center that holds seminars year round (with free food!). I attended a couple of meetings in the spring and a couple this summer. Somehow I was inspired at the seminar last week and made plans to actually meet with a consultant one-on-one to work through all of this (even though the idea of it terrifies me). Maybe I'll be a good teacher after all. Hopefully.

I want to be like Oprah when I grow up.

I have no idea how to do this actually.

I don't know how to make a non-standard-template blog.
I don't know how to see who's reading.
I don't know how to see what google terms people have used to end up here.
I didn't know that reposting was bad.
I don't know how to post a list of blogs that I read on a sidebar.
I don't know how to ensure anonymity.

I just don't know these things and I'm too lazy to find out at the moment.

I’ve taught 2 courses and I’ve made two students cry.

The first was a methods class that all grads taught. The students hated it, partially because it is SUCH a boring class (I hated it as an undergrad) and partly because they knew grad students taught it and they felt ripped off. It was pretty easy to prep because it required little thinking. Randomization is randomization - no tough questions to think through, no source papers to read. The students plagiarized and I was angry. I made a smart girl cry (purely a misunderstanding - I used a sentence from her paper as an example of how NOT to plagiarize but she thought I doing the reverse). She burst into tears in the middle of class. It was very dramatic. I wrote her an apology and gave her candy. I really didn’t know what else to do.

The second course was Intro to MyArea. I volunteered to teach after McDreamyProf suddenly bought out (turns out he was getting a divorce). I did it purely for the money. My car had just broke (poor Cecilia) and I needed to buy a new-to-me car. The class was very difficult to prep. I’m only an expert in maybe 2-3 chapters of MyArea. Some chapters I knew NOTHING about. So I read a lot. Students asked a lot of good questions but questions I certainly did not have an answer to. I tend to be a hard grader; 70% is a C- not a B+ and students just don’t like that. I don’t believe it teaching the book. Come on man. You paid $50 (at least) for the book and you are perfectly capable of reading - why should I simply summarize the book for you? I do teach the important stuff but I also include stuff not in the book. I made a chubby girl cry (IN MY DEFENSE: Before the first day of class, I randomly assigned a question for each student to answer as a sort of learn names/break the ice sort of thing. Well, there was this strange thing where two people worked at the gym and two people’s hobby was working out at the gym and that group had a little personal communication and it was funny, everyone was sort of giggling (“oh, when do you work?” “yes, I’ve seen you there” There was some flirting going on between 2 of them.) Immediately after that was chubby girl and her pre-assigned question was “What is your favorite food” Her answer was something I don’t remember but something really bad for you and I said (because I think I am funny) “oh, you should meet those guys at the gym.” ONLY then did I realize she was a bit chubby. I myself am chubby and I rarely notice the size of others. See what I mean. So chubby girl and I had a long talk. She was actually very brave - she called me (and/or emailed) and told me I made her cry all day and she wanted to resolve this so she could move forward and stay in the class. We talked about it and everything was fine after that. She came in for help often and struggled a bit in the class but pulled through. I saw her in later semesters and she told me my class wasn’t nearly as hard as her current classes. I also apologized to the entire class and told them to let me know if I ever offended them.

I am teaching in the fall. Who’ll be next?

This happened to me:

We were taking The (newly born) Kid to see the Dr. I still had not slept. He was wrapped in the pink blanket we received as a baby shower gift from The Husband's grandparents. Why did they give us a pink blanket for a baby boy? I do not know. It is definitely not because they are open minded, GLBTA, or crazy liberals (as my step-father might say).

In fact (# 20) the grandparents did not attend our wedding because 1.) we are in a mixed marriage (mixed referring to the fact that The Husband is Catholic and I am not and 2.) we were not married in a Catholic church (we were not married in a church at all, but it remains unknown if they would attend a church-other-than-Catholic wedding because no family member has yet dared. There are rumors that one cousin is now a Baptist, oh the shame.)

So anyway, back to fact #19. We were carrying The Kid in a pink blanket. A woman stopped us and said something like “oh what a cute baby, how old? boy or girl?” We replied and then she said “WHY is HE wearing PINK?” as if we must be mistaken. I said something like “because it’s cold out” I was lucky to even have the ability to form words, given the sleep deprivation, let alone reply to this nut job. After that incident I decided that if ever again I was asked such a question, I would reply “because he is gay” Unfortunately, I’ve not had the opportunity.

I gave birth without an epidural. I did get a shot of some kind of narcotic that lasted (apparently) an hour. It didn't take away the pain or pressure, it just made me not care. It wasn't a purposeful choice and I have no strong commitment to "natural childbirth,*" it just happened. I was in labor but no pain for hours (4:30am-noonish) and then all of a sudden everything happened in a very quick and very dramatic fashion (as does the rest of my life).



*I so hate that term, what kind child birth is unnatural? And what is the correct order for a comma, asterisk, and quotation mark? I need a style guide.

I hate you. I just spent 30 minutes trying to get rid of a mysterious line that appeared when I converted MFVM into pdf format. The paper is now officially submitted, without mysterious lines (I hope)

I am currently, as we speak (as I type is more accurate I suppose) submitting the revision of MyVeryFavoriteManuscript. Old Famous Dude and I communicated a few more times and his last email said "apparently - That's very helpful; thanks" I am so excited that this is finished I can literally not sit still. I am bouncing.

And the greatest part is that I don't really care all that much if it is accepted or rejected. If it is accepted then I have 2 (that's right, 2!) articles in the Special Issue on my specialization area in Good Journal. But if it is rejected, then I will save it until I get a job and it will count towards tenure. (It will get accepted, it is a very good and very timely paper. But the special issue is on a very tight schedule, so you only get one chance at revision.)

I'm so excited and I just can't hide it...

We belong to a CSA.

We pay a fixed amount of money to a local organic farm sometime during the winter. Then for the entire farm season we get whatever the farm produces. So, if the deer eat all the pumpkins (as happened last year), then we get no pumpkins. But if the kale grows like wild for weeks and weeks, then we get an endless supply of kale. It is great. The fresh, organic veggies are great - I love love love fresh peas. And, it is nice to know that we might just be preventing some local farmers from getting a second job at Walmart to pay the bills. But my very favorite thing is that we get vegetables that we'd never buy at the store because what on earth do you do with kohlrabi? Well, let me tell you. You grate it, sprinkle with salt and wait. Then saute with butter and onions. mmm mmm good

2 Kohlrabi, peeled
1 tsp salt
1 med onion, peeled & diced
4 tbsp sweet butter
1 tbsp chopped fresh marjoram or basil

Grate the kohlrabi in a food processor or by hand. Sprinkle with salt and allow to sit in a colander for 30 minutes. Squeeze water out. Melt butter in a sauté pan. Brown onions and stir in kohlrabi. Turn heat to low, cover and simmer for 10 min. Uncover and turn up the heat to medium. Cook another 2 min. Add fresh herbs.

Last night for dinner, I had Chili-Garlic Roasted Broccoli , Spinach-Artichoke Dip, and a salad with fresh peas and shrimp. I know, bizarre combo right? The plan was to make a salad. But then I ran into the broccoli and I've been wanting to make that recipe because I love it, so I added it to the list. Then The Husband requested I make the dip for a snack later that night but it looked so good we added it to the dinner table. Anyway, the point is that everything was green (ok so not the shrimp but everything else). Strange but yummy!

Please show up on time. If you know that your subject (sorry, I mean participant) is arriving at 12:45 - get ready then (and I know you know because I told you myself). Not 30 mins later. It is sloppy, rude, and unprofessional. Not to mention, if you are late then everyone after you is late. I am after you, fool, and you do not want to make me angry. Seriously.
love, apparently

The Husband and I have visited the red states together (27 total). Not The Red states, but the states colored in red in the above graph. We have strict rules about the definition of visit. Flyovers, drive-thrus, and layovers do not count - it must be a purposeful visit to the state, but an overnight stay is not required. We now plan vacations around the states we haven't visited. I've also been to California, Iowa, Michigan, New Hampshire, Texas, and Vermont (well, my foot was in Vermont). The Kid has been to 7 states.

Make your own map here.

Why have I gone on a blogging rampage? First, MyVeryFavoriteManuscript is done! Yeah me! I haven't submitted it yet because I want to read it one more time next week, but it is done! Second, I've been neglecting you guys (well, at least you - I know you read and FriendWithKids, she reads). Third, I'm leaving for a conference/vacation next week and I want to leave you something to read while I'm gone (because really, what else have you to do?).

So ... pace yourself. You've got almost 3 weeks to read all this silliness.

Fact 10: I have one sister. We grew up with our 2 step-sisters so I feel like I grew up in a big family. We still see our step-sisters on occasion, but we are not close. The Husband has 2 brothers which I consider my own. I’ve known them since they were in elementary school and they don’t remember a time pre-apparently.

Fact 11: My parents divorced when I was 5. My mother was 23, had no place to live, and had never had a job. So she gave custody to my father. I elected to live with my mother when I was 12 and legally old enough to make my own decisions. I wanted to move in with my mother as early as I can remember but she was too afraid of my father to go to court.

Fact 12: My father was abusive and has substance abuse problems. I might blog more about this later, but not now.

Fact 13: All of my grandparents were farmers. I have great childhood memories of riding on tractors, watching the pigs, and eating fresh peas from the garden.

Fact 14: My nephew is 6 weeks younger than my son. My sister and I have become extremely close as we continue to travel together through all of the craziness that is pregnancy, birth, and babyhood. I don’t think 2 kids could be more different than The Nephew and The Kid. But I adore my nephew.

Fact 15: My mom and step-dad have been married for almost 20 years. He is a conservative republican and an accountant. Despite his flaws, we get along.

I’ve been taking medicine to prevent this for the past 10 years. I had to stop when I was pregnant. The only good thing about being pregnant was that I had no symptoms or episodes (because of the increase in fluid/blood volume). Pregnancy was the only time in my life when I could take a decongestant and not feel like I couldn’t walk across the street, the only time when I could have my blood drawn without “passing out” with a needle in my arm, the only time when I could jump out of bed in the middle of the night without any consequences. It was great. Ditto for an entire year after my son was born. Until suddenly one day, I had another episode and all of the other symptoms resumed - all in one day. I went back to the doctor and resumed my medication. But, I still felt a little off. Twice, in a month I was certain I’d pass out and I prepared (take off shoes, lay down, ask for a wet towel for my neck and a glass of water for when I woke up) but then nothing happened. Both were work days and I just came home and laid around because I felt awful. So I went back to the Dr. He suggested another tilt table test. I told him about my last ttt and that I have a real fear of doing it again. He convinced me that I should.

As all of my Drs. have told me repeatedly – this condition will not kill me, I will outgrow it, and pregnancy will probably eliminate it all together. Apparently, pregnancy didn’t eliminate it. I’m 30 and I haven’t outgrown it. But for some reason, I believe the part about it not killing me. And so I was willing to purposefully volunteer to have my heart stopped.

That is, until the night before I was scheduled. I cried myself to sleep. I set my alarm late, but woke up early. I was hoping for traffic, but we were the only people on the road.

They gave me my own room with a TV, like I’d be staying for days. It should take an hour, max. Last time the actual test took only 45 seconds. The hospital Dr. implied that the test might or might not be diagnostic but I’d probably end up on more medication. So The Husband and I were waiting around for test time (we had to arrive 2 hrs and 15 early – don’t ask me why) and I just decided I couldn’t do it. What if we just left? What would happen? Would they call the police? Would my insurance charge me? I put on my pants and shoes but left on the hospital gowns. I was playing reverse strip poker.

I asked to see the Dr again and asked if just trying more medication was an option rather than The Test. He explained that the problem is more medication might reduce my blood pressure to dangerously low levels. So I’d have to have my blood pressure monitored regularly and I might have to change medications and/or have The Test later. And then we left. No ttt for me.

And, he gave me my very favorite prescription ever – eat more salt. (Mmmm I love salt.)

I have an extremely annoying medical condition.

I would tell you what it is called except that it doesn’t have a consistent name – I’ve been diagnosed with the same thing by 3 different names. So how do I know I even have a real medical condition then? Well, on occasion I feel like I’m going to “pass out” which means that I get really hot (& take off some or all of my clothes), my ears ring, my heart feels funny (not sure how to describe it), and finally a dark circle slowly expands until I can see nothing. Then what feels like hours later (but in reality it less than a minute), I rejoin the world. When I wake up, I can hear things happening around me before I have the ability to respond or to open my eyes. I have no memory for what happens after the black circle. I usually have a super bizarre dream during those seconds.

Now all of this happened to me for my entire life. In elementary school, Ms. Powell (who was Mrs. Huth when my sister was in her class) was the teacher who always found me when I was having an episode. She was very sweet. My pediatrician didn’t really believe there was a problem. He tested me for diabetes and said I was borderline hypoglycemic and when I felt like this I should drink some orange juice and peanut butter to increase my blood sugar. That never solved a thing but now I always want a glass of OJ and some PJ crackers (or a candy bar with nuts) after an episode.

So when I was about 22 and went to get my wisdom teeth removed, I told the Dr. about this, he suggested I see a neurologist, and called and arranged an appointment. I went through another round of tests, in what was one of the worst days of my life. The tests were analyzed immediately and arranged in order of likelihood. At the beginning of the day I had several heart tests, all fine. I’m not epileptic. I do not have thyroid, kidney, or other metabolic problems. And on and on.

The final test of the day was a tilt table test. Sounds very simple. You lay on a table and they slowly tilt it. They put in an IV stint just in case but nothing more. Bingo. After the first minor tilt, I start to feel funny and I pass out. Now when I came to, I hear “Code Blue! Code blue!” and I hear my mom rush through the waiting room doors and yell my name. Once I can open my eyes, there is a person holding defibrillation paddles over my chest. He (she? I have a vague feeling it was a she now that I read this again) hadn’t used them but was inches away from doing so.

As it turns out “passing out” in my case means that my heart stops, I stop breathing, and things that go along with that (my limbs get rigid and my skin turns a bluish-gray). Apparently, I’ve obviously get to skip this part. 36 seconds later I return to normal.

I blog like I work: all or none.

I do absolutely nothing for days and then I work until my eyes can no longer stay open and my hands ache. I feel like blogging about a billion things today but it seems a bit obsessive so I won't.

I cannot swim.

As a polar bear, I can swim. But outside of the zoo, I cannot swim. I've taken swimming lessons twice in my adulthood, so I can float and I could swim on my back (10 years ago during a lesson) but that is it.

The Husband is a teacher and his last day of school was Wednesday. The teachers had a little picnic scheduled to start after they were released which could have been anytime between 8-3, but happened to be 9:00am this year. I've been working like a crazy maniac lately, trying to finish revising MyVeryFavoriteManuscript and starting a new project, so I decided to take the day off and have some fun.

Our contribution to the picnic was taco salad and jello shots. We couldn’t bring bad jello shots to the picnic, right? We are responsible guests. So we had to sample and make sure they were tasty jello shots. Nevermind that it was too late, you can’t make new jello shots because they take hours to set. Nevermind that. We were just doing our job as good guests, to make sure our contribution was acceptable. 10:30 am (maybe 10:00, who knows) and they were mighty tasty.

I know some of the other teachers, not many. They were all talking about Student A and Student B and Administrator A and Administrator B. Not too interesting if you ask me. So, I ate and I drank through Student A and I ate and I drank through Student B. You get the picture.

We arrived back home around 2:30pm and I took a nap. The Husband and The Kid woke me up around 6 and I stayed awake for about 3 hours. Then back to bed until 8am. Ahhh, sleep how I love you.

In the very near future, I will post on:

1. my escape from the hospital
2. new research project in HotField that is sucking 20 hours from each day
3. jello shots at 10:30 am (not related to #1 if that is what you are thinking and I know you are)
4. the final revision of MyVeryFavoriteManuscript (I hope, anyway)

I've been a very busy bee this week.

Last night I dreamt that I had 5 comments on one of my posts and I was so excited. I seriously need to get a life. I guess it is better than dreaming about data analysis or the revision that will never end. Or maybe not?

I have a problem assigning names. We have 2 cats named Orange Kitty and Gray Kitty. These are not pseudonyms carefully chosen to preserve my anonymity. We just couldn’t agree on names, so we chose the obvious. The Kid was nameless for 7 days after his birth. After we finally picked a name and called the appropriate government worker, we called back later that day to change the spelling. Then about 6 months later, we decided the name just didn’t work for him. (You’ve met those people, right? The ones who just don’t fit their name. I once had a boyfriend Keith (or Kevin?) who honestly should have been named Kevin (or Keith?). I never called him the right name, it just didn’t fit.) It took a few more months before we decided to officially change it, rather than just assign a nickname. I hate hate hate giving my manuscripts a title. I usually make minor (sometimes major) changes each time I read the paper. I once changed the entire title of a paper during the page proof stage. I didn’t start this blog for months after I initially decided I wanted one because I couldn’t come up with the right name. I actually claimed one with another name but never posted because it just wasn’t quite right. When I thought of this name, I frantically made my blogger account and my gmail account with shaking hands, hoping not to get scooped.

There is something very presumptuous in assigning a title. The title will define you (ok, maybe not the cats). It is your first impression, maybe your only impression. A man named Barron cannot be a hair stylist, it just doesn’t work. No one will read my paper if the title doesn’t sound relevant or interesting. I never click on certain blogs, despite the fact that everyone links to them, because I don’t like the title. I know, I know - you shouldn’t just a book by it’s cover. I’m not. I’m too busy judging it by it’s title.

Saturday was a lovely day. And because I am such a good mother, I decided to take The Kid outside to play. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, so I decided to eat outside so The Kid didn’t have to wait for me (being the kind, considerate mother that I am). I grabbed a banana, graham crackers, and a cup of coffee. I picked bananas and graham crackers to share because he loves them (even though he’d already eaten), because I am obviously, a very nice mommy. Not only am I a super terrific, nice mother but I am also safe and responsible, so you will not be surprised to learn that I poured my coffee in a travel mug with a lid, thus preventing any burns or spills.

Holding the banana, graham crackers, and coffee with my left hand and The Kid’s hand with my right, we push open the back door. I put my left elbow against the door to hold it open, tipping my arm, tipping the coffee cup, pouring hot coffee on my right hand, which spills onto The Kid’s head. Realizing this, I let go of the door to grab my burnt hand, causing the door slam into The Kid’s face.

I have an inch long burn on my hand. The Kid fared better, he only cried for about 20 seconds and he has no burn (thanks to my hand and to his hair).

ps Please don’t call children’s services

I cannot keep a secret. Not a good secret, a bad secret, a boring secret, or a really juicy secret. I might only tell TheHusband, not the whole entire world, but I am a teller. Part of the reason, I think (or maybe I am completely making this up to justify my problem), is that I don’t like to have my own secrets. I prefer to own it. If you don’t like the facts about my life, then too bad for you. This is tied to another fact: I cannot tell a lie. Now this presents numerous problems. For example, during job interviews when the director of undergraduate teaching asks a question like “Would you like to teach Intro to WholeField?” - my mouth says “hmmm, I’d definitely try but I think that is a challenging course to teach” and my face says “seriously, are you crazy? no f*ing way!” Of course, the correct answer (and one reason I do not have a job) is “Yes, I’d love to. I’ve always wanted to teach Intro.”

I've been revising MyVeryFavoriteManuscript since 7:30 this morning and I could write all night - except that my wrists hurt and my vision is starting to blur. I love days like this! Before I had The Kid, many many days were like this. I feel like I've drank a whole pot of coffee (though I didn't drink a single cup all day!) and I am happy. I totally kicked that manuscripts a*s today! The revision is due in 22 days and for the first time I feel like it will actually get done after all. yeah, me!

I should lose about 35 pounds. Somehow, without my permission, my body gained 10 pounds in the past month or 2.

But I still think I am cute.

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

(in chronological order for easy reading)

to: BestAdvisorEver
from: Colleague at DecentGradSchool

As you know, DGS lost 2 faculty this year, one last year, and 1 is on leave. We will have TT lines in the fall but right now we need a visiting prof to teach 2-2 this coming academic year. Know anyone?

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reply to: Colleague at DecentGradSchool
from: BestAdvisorEver

I think I told you (or was it other colleague?) of a super prospect for you -- apparently (now on a post doc with CEO-likeAdvisor). This might not help for the fall, but it could if you hired her for a year ahead.

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reply to: BestAdvisorEver
from: Colleague at DecentGradSchool

Great idea....can you pass along our ad to apparently, perhaps with a note indicating that she might be able to turn her visit into a permanent job?

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to: apparently
from: BestAdvisorEver

contact Colleague at DecentGradSchool, see email exchange

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Of course, I've already contacted Colleague at DGS but haven't heard back... so maybe this is all meaningless but I can always hope.

I have the most adorable kid EVER. I know, I know, everyone thinks the same about their own kid but I have actual proof . . .

[picture removed to protect the innocent & the guilty]

I am hilarious. Or at least I think I am. I am constantly making jokes but usually keep them to myself so as not to offend anyone. (I tend to be sarcastic. I never intend to hurt anyone’s feelings but people are just so sensitive. So I usually don’t share my mind-blowing humor, except with my sister and The Husband.) I sure do amuse myself though.

I often suffer from insomnia. As you might guess, often includes now. I cannot sleep when I have unfinished business. I mentioned before that I did not sleep for 5 days after my son was born. The Drs gave me all kinds of advice – make yourself physically tired, drink a glass of wine, don’t watch TV, do yoga, take Benadryl, take Tylenol PM, don’t watch the news (The Kid was born on a Friday and the 2004 presidential election was the following Tuesday) do this, don’t do that! They finally gave me Ambien and I slept for 13 straight hours the first night and 12 the next. So, what is my unfinished business tonight?

· Well, OFD emailed again today. Twice (well actually 3 times but the third was an attachment he forgot to send in the first email).

· I have to revise that paper that OFD reviewed and the clock is ticking (less than 25 days I think).

· I’ve been asked to review a paper of a friend and can’t decide if I should accept.

· I’ve just started a new project that requires an insane amount of organization, phone calls, paperwork, details, etc. I’m making a non-stop mental checklist which I’ll forget by the time I wake up anyway, but nevertheless the checklist continues to grow.

This is my unfinished business. I took 2 Tylenol PM (left over from 2004) but that was 2 hours ago and here I am. The good news is that fact 2 is complete. Of course, that leaves 98 more pieces of unfinished business.

[edited to add: Ok, what is with these bullets? This is the kind of thing that will keep me up all night. 20 minutes I've spent trying to make them identical. Add this to the list of unfinished business. I am going back to bed, but do not act shocked when I return in 30 minutes to try again]

I always think of things to post but then get distracted by life. To encourage posting, I've decided to try 100 Facts in 100 Days. AAYOR did it and B* did it and now I'm doin' it.

Fact 1. I love food tv. I could watch it all day and all night. And in grad school I did. And while pregnant I did. And on cold rainy days I will. My original favorite was Emeril. Then for a very brief period it was the Iron Chef. I like Rachel Ray's meals because they are simple and do take close to, but usually a little more than, 30 mins. But I don't like Rachel Ray. Yum-o, oh please let me smack you. My current favorites are Good Eats with Alton Brown (his chewy chocolate chip cookies are the BEST) and Barefoot Contessa with Ina Garten. My parents and The Husband's parents think we eat fancy food ("you like that weird lettuce?" - FIL). My parents love it because they get a culture lesson every time they visit. We order pizza when The Husband's parents visit. I also love food. I say "mmm" when I eat, apparently. I know this because The Kid says "mmm" with almost every bite. This post made me hungry, I think I need an 8:59 snack.

I’m finishing my 2^nd year as a post-doc. This fall will begin my 3^rd academic job search. In the prior 2 searches, I applied for 9 faculty positions, I gave 3 job talks, and I’ve been rejected. Three times. In two cases, the vote was a near tie (lost by 2 votes). Objectively this is pretty good. Right? Job talks 30% of the time is pretty good. But then again a 100% rejection rate is not too good. In the coming days I plan to reflect on searches 1 and 2 a bit. The good. The bad. And the Ugly. The first search was great - I loved it! The second search sent me into a miserable funk. The third search, hmm well we shall see.

As seen at profgrrrrl’s who copied from Geeky Mom.

1. Do you use an alarm clock to wake up? well The Husband does, so yes by default.
2. What time does your alarm go off? 6:51
3. What sound does it make? standard obnoxious alarm sound
4. Do you hit the snooze button? How many times? noooooooooo and this is one of my biggest pet peeves. why set the alarm for 6:51 if you know you can wait until 7:15 to get up? let me have uninterrupted sleep until 7:15, please.
5. If you have a partner, do they have a separate alarm? no
6. Does your partner get up at the same time, earlier or later? same time, though I sometimes (he would say always) go back to bed after he leaves
7. Is your clock set ahead? If so, by how much? used to be. but the electric went out this weekend & I set it to CNN time
8. What's the first thing you do when you get up? change The Kid’s diaper (jealous, aren’t you?) and get him dressed
9. Do you eat breakfast? If so, what? yes, always. the only thing that makes me more grouchy than lack of sleep is lack of food. usually cereal and coffee during the week and eggs and meat on weekends.
10. How long does it take you to get ready? hmm. tough question. I often work at home and take all day to get ready (which begs the question, exactly what am I getting ready for - bed?). so pretend I need to get up, get ready and leave - I’d say 25 mins on average.
11. On the weekends, what time do you get up? pre-kid: somewhere between 11:00 and 2, post kid: 8:00 is sleeping in
12. Do you lounge or do you jump into action? lounge. definitely lounge with coffee and email.
13. In an ideal world, what time would you get up? 10ish
14. How many hours of sleep do you typically get? 7.5
15. How many hours of sleep do you want to get? 9.5