Six! Six applications! Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.

(Ok, you tell me how to spell the Count's laughter. Smartypants.)


And with no further ado, here are random tidbits of information that did not seem germane to the previous post:

• It's fall! That is, it's a California fall ---- which means the undergrads are wearing skinny jeans with their ugg boots. Instead of the usual hot pants or miniskirts. Actually, it means that it drizzled on Friday (yay!) and was cloudy and overcast and chilly today (yay yay!). And, there's that wonderful acrid smoky smell in the air I associate with fall. No clue why it does that, though.
• I have, indeed, sent out six job applications. Technically, I am not done with my letter or abstract, much less the writing sample, because Advisor told me to show them to no one until she had signed off on them. However, she's not really clear on the deadline timelines I have. That is, I sent four of my apps out on Saturday at the Fedex place because they were due across country today, Monday. The other two I Fedexed out last Monday to get them there Wed. All I have to say is, early application people, you suck! That is why you get draft job materials without the patented Advisor Seal of Approval on them. You should be properly ashamed of yourselves.
• I will stalk my Advisor and various committee members tomorrow, as that seems to be the Magical Convergence Day for them to be on campus. I hope to actually connect with everyone I need to connect with and be told that at least certain parts of my materials are done. Then I can play with the copy machine and make a big pile of stuff for later use.
• I have many many more applications to send out, some of which do not actually ask for a blood sample and seven-generation genealogy. (Actually, that would be more fun to do --- or make up --- than a statement of research goals or official transcripts.) Some of them are Hail Mary passes (hello, ivies), some of them are more like hockey passes (as in, WTF are you playing ice hockey on the football field for? This job's not for you.) and some of them seem to want what I do. We won't get into the ways in which the departments themselves or the geographic locations may let me down, as I have not allowed myself to look very closely at anything yet. I can't be picky; I need a job. And besides, I seem to spend my spare time here, in my living room, on the couch, on the internet, and I could do that pretty much anywhere.
• At my other-job-related party on Sat, (there was much socializing and snarky jokes. You should have been there.) I tried Belgian double chocolate beer. Not bad at all. I'm not such a big beer fan, though, so my number one criteria is that it should not taste anything like beer. Then I am happy. Unless I have already had enough to drink that I can't really taste much of anything; then I am fine. Unfortunately, I still have like a half case of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer (hipster ironic drink of choice) that someone brought to my last party. I'd have another soirée to get rid of it, but I'm afraid someone else will use that as an opportunity to dump their leftover Coors on me. Can't have that.
• Um, yeah. Other job. Have I mentioned I'm a girl who just can't say no? Gah. I can't say anything about it except that I'll be really glad when the second Tuesday of November rolls around, you know what I mean. Unfortunately, the slogan, "If you don't do it, who will?" seems to only work on me. Thus the inability to dump this job along. Well, considering you are unemployed right now, you say, a second job would really help you out! Um ... yeah. Did I mention the unpaid part? Why, yes, I know I am an idiot. Can I interest you in a valuable learning opportunity? No?? If not you, then who? If not now, then when?
• This one isn't directly from me, but students? TMI. If you are sick, you can just write that in the email. You don't need to describe your sweats and sprints for the bathroom in visceral detail. Unless this is a secret trick to get whatever you want? "Dude, just gross out the teacher and she'll be unable to read the email any further and she'll give you the extension." Or maybe it's a secret TA conspiracy? "I don't believe you were sick, Mr. Johnson --- unless you tell me every symptom in graphic detail!" (disgusting email courtesy of the grad student mailroom.)