The ability to calculate how long before you graduate is highly overrated. I would never have wanted to calculate the time it would take. I would have been even less motivated if I thought it would take forever. There is a limit though. Most universities allow 10 years for you to complete your degree once you have reached a certain stage in your graduate studies. The clock doesn’t start ticking from the time you began your degree. I suppose it depends on the university as well.

My advisor was very flexible. Basically, you controlled when you finished–not him. This means that once your motivation went to zero, you could be floundering in ABD (all but dissertation, aka all but dead) hell. However, you can’t reach ABD until all research is done leading up to writing that thick book that no one will probably ever read. You’re required to get it printed and bound in hardcover and pay for it to be microfiched. There are the copyright fees as well. You never order just one hardbound copy. The university requires a copy, as does the department and your advisor. Then, of course, you can get one for yourself (highly recommended as you never know when you might need the information again–say for an interview) and one to bestow on your parents. Basically outside of yourself, no one reads the thing. Regular people wouldn’t understand it, so the “gift” to the parents means very little other than they are thankful that you will be earning a real salary rather than the pittance you got as a graduate teaching assistant. Of course, that is dependent on if you were able to get a job out of graduate school. Some specialties just aren’t conducive to finding a job other than teaching and torturing your own graduate students. My experience in chemistry graduate school is that the least able and least talented went into teaching. Those who were really good at teaching went into industry.

I remember going to graduate school with lots of enthusiasm and trepidation. I worried that I would flunk out. I worried constantly about tests and grades, which really wasn’t all the different from undergraduate. A friend helped me get over it, but it took until going through comprehensive exams to really get over the worry. Comprehensive exams began in the second year. I think I was about half way through them before I quit worrying so much, but I did prepare.

I came across Newton’s Three Laws of Graduation while browsing phdcomics. There’s more truth there than you know. Around the end of the second year, my enthusiasm waned. It waned big time. I was about ready to quit. Work came to a stand still–nearly. Procrastination kicked in. Although it didn’t kick in fully until it was time to write my dissertation. Funny how you can find a myriad of things to do to avoid finishing. It’s mostly to avoid the firing squad called your committee at the thesis defense.

I wonder what some people I know would think of this result.

Since I won’t be home, my cats will have the run of the house. I wonder what mischief they will find. I doubt that I will find them like this.

I have a seminar all weekend beginning today. Darn thing lasts 12 hours a day. I wonder how I will survive it.

Today is my last free day for the next few days. I signed up for a three day seminar because a friend kept bugging me about it. I don’t know what to expect, but the days leading up to it haven’t been any fun. Some of the posts on this blog are the result of things that have been going through my mind since I first signed up. I’ll have to write about it afterwards. I suppose I’m anxious because I don’t know what will happen. I’m not very happy about the long hours or the three days because I’m missing relaxing, fun and dance class. Missing dance class on Saturday is a big deal because I’m practicing for our mock competition. I need all the help I can get, and I just don’t practice hard enough at home.  But really, who pushes themselves as hard as any instructor?

Then again, I will spend part of my day preparing for the next three. I have to have meals.  With my diet restrictions, I can’t just go anywhere to eat. I certainly can’t go anywhere that’s fast food. All fast food seems to contain bread. The last thing I need over the weekend is to get “glutened.” I already had a run-in with the bathroom on Monday morning.

The class has a meeting on Tuesday evening as well.  That should be interesting, but probably not in a good way. After three days, they expect you to bring people on Tuesday. Well, I can’t see forcing something on someone when you’ve hardly had time to process what went on. Also apparently you’re supposed to work things out with people you know by calling them. Oh fun. There are people who for various reasons I do not speak to–ever. There’s nothing to work out. There is just no relationship. Oh, and then there are all the people I know scattered elsewhere–different time zones. No way am I calling anyone after 10 pm. There are very few people I know who I can call after that hour without it being some dire emergency.

Anyway, when I get back, I will write about the weekend. Hopefully, all goes well.

I received a message that I am Blog of the Day over at BlogMad for Feb. 13. I can’t find the blog of the day button anywhere. Nice surprise for today when I have no plans.

Fifteen years ago today, I stood before justice of the peace, seven months pregnant and got married. My mother was there. I don’t remember the other witness. I can say that no one should do significant and life changing things on holidays–as you will remember it forever. I don’t remember every year, but it has come to mind this year. Perhaps because I have been going over a lot of stuff in my life–a lot of idiotic things I’ve done. This was one. Why? I got married because I thought it was the right thing to do according to family and society. Never, ever do anything for those reasons. I remember the horrible headache and voice I heard screaming in my head “NO!” when I was asked to say “I do.” It is the biggest regret of my life, and nothing seems to change that. Not time. Not other people telling me I should have no regrets. All the signs were there that I chose to ignore because I was caught up in doing the right thing.

I have been divorced for nearly 14 years now. I have yet to figure out if that really means anything. If my life had gone a different course, perhaps I’d still be unmarried.

I had no party. No dress. No cake. No honeymoon. No friends. No family–except my mother. Our relationship was a bit strained at the time. While it sounds unusual, people in my family get married that way: civil ceremony, immediate family only. My sister has been the only one who had a wedding.

A little illness has kept me from posting much today. I don’t know what it was, but I was very sick for just under 24 hours. I’ll be eating again soon.

I also had to clear up a bit of a mess with a friend. I always think of him having such a thick skin because he teases me so mercilessly. I’m finding out that he doesn’t–not really.  So it seems I said something in jest, which wasn’t taken that way at all. I feel a bit like an idiot. However this all could have been cleared up the day it was said if he had asked rather than assuming. It pains me to hurt someone of whom I think so highly.

I would be bored beyond belief if they just disappeared. If they never existed, I would be searching the web and reading just like I used to before they existed. I would probably get other things done more often and sit in front of my computer less.

As for my writing, I probably wouldn’t. I have never been able to keep a diary, not even a diary on the computer for any length of time. I’m spurred on to write knowing that people are reading and looking for a new post.

I would miss the blogs I read on a regular basis. I would miss the stories, the craziness and sometimes openness found on many blogs.

(Blog Talkers)

I haven’t written about dance classes in awhile, so I suppose it is about time. I have a mock fete coming up for Tahitian dancing. A mock fete is a practice competition that is run just like a competition with sign-in, line-ups and judges. I still haven’t decided if I will be there. It’s the last Sunday of March, but it corresponds with my son’s spring break. It’s an all day thing that I’m not sure he will be able to stand. I’d rather spend the time with him, since I don’t often have him for spring break. His upcoming spring breaks will be taken up with a band trip and French class trip.

Dance classes aren’t going as well as I would like since I was sick for a week. The residuals of being sick lasted another week. I have lost quite a bit of strength. I’m really quite surprised.

Hula is still an hour a week, but Tahitian practice is two hours a week. I need to find 30 minutes a day–every day–to improve. It’s “every day” that is the problem. I know my weaknesses, but I just never work myself as hard as class.

I’m going through the “I’m not good enough” stage. I’m often frustrated because I have to work so hard to get just a little improvement. Some dancers pick up the moves faster. Perhaps they practice more. I’ve been at it for six months, and I wish I was a better dancer than where I’m at right now. I’m stronger. My body is leaner. But I’m still not in good enough shape to even last through 20 minutes of stamina training.