So it’s been a while I guess. What? Maybe a little over a week? Two weeks? Egads. My poor little blog here. I think it’s perhaps I have few issues to work through right now? It’s been a busy last couple of weeks though. I just completely crashed right about midterm. The pace of the quarter takes some adjusting. Then I was recovering from the J’s wreck (that’s right–I had to recover from that). Then a couple of good things. And not really a bad thing. Just an embarrassing thing maybe? I’ll start with that.
Thursday I got stuuuuuuuupid ass drunk. I’m talking sorority girl at her first fucking kegger drunk. Like totally and completely shitfaced man. There was an art fest. On a school night. All you can drink beer samples. The four ounce sample is deceiving. You think, “oh, it’s only four ounces. That’s nothing.” Yeah, it’s nothing until you’ve had about 25 or 30 four ounce beers. For some reason I decided that I must keep pace with my friend in the biology department. Who used to be a professional football player. Who is an entire foot taller than I am. Who has about 120 pounds on me. Yeah. I picked him to be my drinking gage. Not the friend who’s 2 inches taller than I am and weighs less than me. Him I can hang with. Biology prof, no. And it’s a small town–all of my friends are my colleagues. And most of them were there Thursday. And when I get that drunk, especially if there’s a metal cover band, well, I turn into the drunk girl of every Nick Swardson joke. The “OMG! I can like totally hang with you! Woo-hoo!” I’m a “woo-hooer” when I’ve had that much and there’s music. Fortunately, no one saw the second half of the Nick Swardson drunk girl, the “hold my hair, I’m never drinking again” drunk girl. Here’s the embarrassing part. I fell at the end of the night. Into my friend’s a/c unit. I knocked over a bunch of bricks. I came home and fell again, on the same side, and didn’t realize until yesterday that I knocked my head a little bit. I fell so hard that when I woke up Friday morning, I thought that I had dislocated my hip. The pain was so tremendous, I could hardly walk. On top of this, the J informs that I also had alcohol poisoning that night. So yeah, hello loser! Who the fuck does that man at my age right? Anyway, I seriously thought that it was out of joint. Here’s the silver lining though. Because I injured my hip, it totally drew attention away from my massive hangover, and no one was suspicious when I let class out early and rescheduled my office hour on Friday. I could not stand. I could not sit. The only remotely comfortable position was to lay on my stomach, and even after a while, nothing was comfortable. It was a shooting pain up my leg that went right to my brain. I couldn’t even concentrate in class. I let them go after 25 minutes. 25 minutes into a 75 minute class! I’m so embarrassed! And I was a grump most of yesterday, too. We went to a halloween party last night, and I sat the whole time. I got up twice for food, but did not move for five hours. I guess that helped.
So yeah, there’s the embarrassing thing. But I also found out last night that everyone else was feeling rotten Friday morning, too. I was the only one who didn’t make it through class though. I’m glad that as much as my leg hurt, I had a reasonably legit excuse to to be a punk.
Now the good news, sort of. Well, remember that book chapter I was agonizing about over the summer? It came back. The poor editor had been sitting on it all this time agonizing 1) over how heavy a hand in the editing he should exercise, and 2) if he should even tell me how badly written it was. He did the first three pages and gave up and sent it back. OMG folks, it was rough. Like seriously, seriously, seriously bad. I am utterly embarrassed that I put my name to it and sent it to him. All right, so that really doesn’t sound like good news. I mean the good news about it was that its content was what he needed to for the book. At least I didn’t have to revise for content. But I had five days to fix the writing. And every single sentence, I shit you not, needed revision. Every single last sentence that was not a direct quote from a text was not only revised, but completely rewritten. And I had to cut some stuff out, too. But when I sent it back, he said that only minor touch ups were needed and that it’s now off to the publisher. I don’t know what happens after that. I think since it’s his book, once he approves it to the publisher, it’s in. I could be wrong. I don’t know if they can decided to cut the chapter out or not. Anyway, the editor has unwavering faith in my abilities that I now have two more publishing opportunities with him. He and his friend run a journal in what is not really longer my subfield, but what will probably become the field I’m moving toward because there’s only one other journal dedicated to the topic. Both he and the co-editor are senior scholars in the field, and other senior scholars routinely contribute to the journal, and they are very kind about giving junior scholars opportunities to get their feet wet in the field, so I’m writing a small article about how two particular texts are related to the field by Thanksgiving, and then for next fall’s issue, I’m going to write another small article on teaching those two texts in our field. My goal was by the end of this academic year to get at least one more thing out. I need 50 pages of published stuff for tenure. This would give me about 37 going into my second year (all of these are really short articles). And then the plan is to turn what I want to do for the big conference in May for the editor (who runs the panels I like to present on) into a longer article and try to get that placed somewhere. I have a bit of a cushion now. It’s not like I’ve got the scholarship requirements locked in, but I’ve got a good start here.
If I can get the third thing that I want to work on in the other journal in the field, I’ll feel good about this. So there’s the good news. The crappy part of this is that I have what, like 5 weeks to rock this out? Thankfully it is just a small piece so that should be doable. And honestly, it helps that where I am I feel like it is doable. If I were still in Fancy Town, the stress would be too great. There’d be no way in hell I could pull it off. But seriously, there’s something about this place that is conducive to work if you want it to be. I can’t explain it. And while it’s true, I don’t have advisees yet. I don’t have a ton of committee work yet. But, this is what I thought my life as an academic should be like. You know, minus alcohol poisoning and a bruised hip.