More of the same

Until this article gets submitted, my postings may be more regular than usual, but they'll also be more anxious and self-centered (if that is possible). Since I don't have anyone physically breathing down my neck and making sure I stay at my desk with the wireless off, these semi-public, anonymous work pledges are all I've got to keep myself in line.

So, yesterday went somewhat better than Tuesday, in that I made headway on the whole thesis thing, but I was still relatively sluggish and unproductive. I also perhaps opened up a new can of worms by re-reading an article that touches on my subject and, I realized this time around, in many ways already says what I'm trying to say, though with very different conclusions. I think I cannot ignore this scholar, but I'm finding it difficult to sum up his point and contrast it from mine in a succinct way. The scholar's writing is extremely dense and vague in ways that make me suspect that he hasn't completely worked out his point, but also worry that perhaps I'm just not smart enough to understand it. (I hate when that happens, which in this field is all too often.)

Anyway, today I will revise the second half of my article, having pretty much plodded successfully through the first half, and I will start working on the endnotes, which at this point are extremely fragmentary.

I also here pledge that I will take some time to exercise today, the time I might otherwise have spent reading blogs, which really isn't the best kind of break one can take from sitting at a computer and writing, now is it?

Argh

Just whined over at Phantom's about my writing frustrations, and won't take any more time to whine here. Let's just say that yesterday didn't go exactly as planned. Today I will begin revising the draft and hopefully, at the very least, come up with a more precise articulation of what my THESIS really is. I am, I realize, exaggerating for effect by claiming not yet to have a thesis, but the fact is, I'm still haunted by the feeling that I haven't yet been able to put into words what's really been driving this project.

Perhaps that feeling is only a symptom of the perfectionism that has been at the crux of my writer's block all of this time. I just don't know. I do know that, in this case, concise, articulate thesis or no, I will be emailing my editor something by Monday.

Today's work pledge

Well, I almost met my goals yesterday. I did not complete a draft, but I did come very close, and exceeded my page allotment by two pages. In the last hour I have written all but the closing paragraph, which I typically wait to write until panic sets in. Did I mention how much trouble I have with endings?

Today, then, I will take the print-out of my almost-done draft to the coffee house (there's only one in this here village) and, over a mediocre latte, decide what still needs to be done. Then, after lunch, I will proceed to DO IT with as little drama as possible.

I'm thinking, dare I say, that what I've got is pretty good. I must resist my compulsive tendency, when reading over a draft, to delete and rewrite and change everything, which comes from some deep well of self-hatred, I think, rather than from the rational, pragmatic editor part of my brain.

Ahem.

We went camping this weekend, refusing to change our plans because of some stupid weather report. It started raining around midnight and was still raining when we decided to head home (only 45 minutes away) around noon the next day. We had fun anyway. LL particularly enjoyed the light sticks we hung from the tent ceiling. (LL=my almost 3yo daughter.)

NOTE TO SELF: Today I will finish a draft of the article that is due Sunday. Even if said draft is far from perfect, by 4:30 this afternoon, it will be a continuous document from introduction to concluding paragraph. I may take breaks only for lunch and potty; to prevent any spontaneous blog posting or related procrastinatory activity, I will turn off my wireless until the end of the day. Before leaving to pick up LL, I will print out the completed draft and set it on my desk, so that I may start my work day tomorrow by reading it and only then determining what sucks and needs revising.

FINISH THE DRAFT. NO REVISING. NO INTERNET. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?

Publish or perish

So what's with the sudden flurry of posting around here? I give you two words in explanation: looming deadline.

I have an article due next week, on which I've been working for a long time, though there is still much to be done. Usually, when deadlines loom, I bake and clean house. But I'm finding that spewing out blog entries also satisfies my manic procrastinatory needs.

Though I must say that such spewing, followed by impulsive clicking on the publish button against all my better instincts ("you must proofread!" they say; "you must shorten those unwieldy sentences, clarify your point, cut out the gross generalizations, etc., etc.!"), has begun noticeably to free up my academic writing. Can't say if I'm writing any better than usual, but even with all the bloggy procrastinating, I'm producing more on a daily basis than I usually do. Though my house is messy and we're most definitely lacking in baked goods.

Revelation

Every once in a while, I glimpse the limits of my omniscience as my daughter's parent. I know her better than anyone, but there are still things I don't know and probably can't know.

Most of the time, I really want to know her every thought and attitude and feeling. I've been working so hard, since the day she was born, to read and understand her, even to anticipate her needs and wants, that this still seems like what I am supposed to do. But sometimes she'll be sucking her thumb and staring off into space, and I know something's going on in there but have no idea what--she's working something out, remembering something, imagining something, who knows? And now that she can tell me what she needs and wants, she can also dissemble, manipulate, and willfully withhold information. She's developing an interiority.

So I guess I'm starting to recognize that there are times when, instead of prying in my usual way--"what are you thinking about? what did you do in school today? etc."--I should give her a little privacy.

technical difficulties

I don't know why there are two of my last post. I deleted one, and it isn't registering. Just so you know I'm not being sloppy.

Update: OK, now it's gone. This blogger stuff is all a big mystery to me.

Red Village, Blue State

Warning: This post is mostly, like the last one, self-centered and for my own benefit; why I'm publishing it here is still largely unclear to me, but I suppose doing so helps me to organize my thoughts. One day I'll try to write something of relevance beyond my own concerns.

On the "do we stay or do we go" front, I've had a few new thoughts. At issue is whether we:

stay where my husband has a job doing pretty much what he wants to do with his life, and where we live in a very small, quaint, isolated, "village," whose diversity is economic only, though hardly even that, and where I can work on finishing my academic book, apply for academic positions in the vicinity (not too many o' those) or switch gears entirely and do something else, yet to be decided;

OR, return to the large, bustling, diverse, metropolitan area where I have a good job waiting for me, and my husband has numerous opportunities for employment but, for various reasons, probably not a very good shot at landing a tenure track position, which he has here.

Soooo. Since my last, rambling narrative concerning this issue, there have been developments:

• I've discovered that our new best friends are in fact rather insane, in both fun and not so fun ways;
  
• I had the experience of voting in the primary, during which I learned that this village is overwhelmingly Republican. This I gleaned when, upon entering the voting place, I was asked what party I belonged to, and then given a piece of paper with the word "Democrat" written on it, and sent to the "Democrat" table. For the duration that we were there, my husband and I were the only two holding that particular piece of paper and sent to that particular table. I realized this was the first time I lived in a place that wasn't overwhelmingly Democrat. (It's also the first place I've lived where you're required to reveal your party affiliation so publicly; is that normal?) It helps to know that the state, at least, is likely to become even more solidly Blue than it already is;
• It occurred to me that if we decide to stay and, 5 years down the road, feel we've made a terrible mistake, we'd be screwed, basically. Particularly if we'd sold our house back home, which we'd surely do in order to buy one here. But if we return and, 5 years down the road, feel we've made a terrible mistake, we'd have OPTIONS;
• On the other hand, I got excited about applying for an academic job that's within commuting distance of here and is actually a better job in some ways than the one that's awaiting my return. Of course, my chances are slim, particularly given my rather short CV, but I think I do have a chance, and I'm suprised to find myself wanting the job. I even wrote the job letter already.
• On the third hand, I've been practicing my axe again and it's been feeling GOOD. I've been approached to give lessons to some local kids. I'm considering giving a recital in the spring. I can imagine this leading to a different and possibly rewarding future than the academic kind.
  

So where do these thoughts leave me? Still confused, I'm afraid. Though less bewildered. I feel as if it will be OK either way.

Random bullets of my daughter is so cute

Yeah, I know. We all need another page on the internets devoted to the cuteness of one's small child. But I can't help myself. I'm overwhelmed by the cuteness this morning, and need some kind of outlet for it so I can get on with my day. Overwhelmed.

Without further ado, then, here are some random observations about the cuteness and/or lovableness of my 2.75 yo daughter (who still lacks a bloggy nickname):

• She starts every day running into our bedroom and demanding "peanut butter toast and crunchy cereal (pronounced ceregal), please," which is not only a cute way to begin the day, but also a nutritious one. If all other meals fall flat, at least I know she's had her protein for the day.
• Like most toddlers, she likes to sing along with the cd/ipod. This morning's trip to preschool featured her high-pitched and slightly-out-of-tune contributions to "Mahna Mahna" and "Worms" from The Muppet Show. Very cute.
• The moment we arrive at school, she shifts from energizer toddler to being the shyest child on the planet. This never fails to pull on my heartstrings.
• She has begun to show concern for her parents' mental health. Whenever one of us appears to be sad, angry or otherwise not happy, she asks with great concern, "Are you okay?" And then, moments later, asks, "Are you happy now?" Which tends to raise one's spirits all by itself.
  
• A while back, she asked me about the words on her shoes. I told her they referred to the people who made the shoes. "People made my shoes??" she asked, disbelieving. After I nodded yes, she insisted, "We have to go thank them," which almost broke my heart. This morning she asked me who "drew" the book she was reading.
  
• She likes to do "cheers" with her sippy cup, and insists I say "clink" when our cups touch. I guess I did this once, and she thinks it's part of the ritual. She also likes to do "cheers" with spoons and forks.
• We do yoga together every morning. She of course puts me to shame with her toddler flexibility. Her favorite: downward dog.
• We don't have television, but we do watch, and let her watch, DVD's on a monitor. I love that she's completely over manic "Dora," and that her current favorite is instead the peaceful, loving, calm Mister Rogers, who makes me cry almost every time. (In case anyone's reading this: you must see this video, of Mr. R testifying in the 60's to a senate committee? I can't recall where I came across the link.)
• She loves to comb (read: tease) my hair.
  
• We're clearly on a Canada Goose flight path, and our days and evenings are regularly punctuated with teh goose song, and with my daughter's excited insistence that we all take note.
• Well, I'm now realizing this could go on ad infinitum, and I'd be the only one still reading so I'll leave it at that, with the understanding that it's only the tip of the iceberg.