Merry Blogmas 2015: Day Eight

On the eight day of Blahgmas, my work day gave to me...actual dissertation progress! Thanks to an exceptionally slow day at the office. Here's a snapshot:

That's all I got today. Professor Schmooblebottoms threw his back out like crazy this morning so I am spending my evening tending to his heating pad temperature regulation, foam roller, and massage needs. 

Speaking of which, we have one of these bad boys for when the back massaging needs to be cranked up a notch. I always have to remember to put it away from the viewing area when we have company over sonthat they don't think we are into some funky fetishy things:

Hey, youth of America (or everywhere, really), do some wild and crazy things before time catches up with you. It's only a blink of an eye--and a decade spent in academia--until you reach the age of lower back pain and chronic heartburn. Long sigh.

Merry Blahgmas: Day Seven!

Today's post brought to you by my current Facebook status because I just came home from working Office Job One in the morning and then teaching lessons this afternoon and then I grabbed the first two thing I saw in the fridge which were a tupperware of week-old sliced tri tip and a half-eaten four day old tuna sandwich, and now I feel too disgusting to do anything else but lay on the couch and rub my belly while making soft whimpering noises:

"Two years ago, a (non-music) professor was unnecessarily rude to me merely because I was standing where he did not approve of my standing in one of the hallways of the Fine Arts building. I let it go because respect for your elders and professional decorum and blah blah. BUT I NEVER FORGOT. This morning, he and I found ourselves in a two-person parking spot showdown, driving past each other through the streets and assorted parking lot aisles near Fine Arts, hoping to be the first to snag the next available space. Finally, after about twenty minutes of this silent battle, I slid into a newly vacated parking spot, checked my lipstick in the rearview mirror, and stepped out of the car--just in time to see him drive past me with a furrowed brow. Our eyes connected. I wish I knew the word to describe my feeling of petty vindication at that moment. It's probably German."

Merry Blahrgmas: Day Six!

Guys.

I do not recommend ordering fifty fried chicken wings for two people. Just don't do it.

And then don't freaking add mac n' cheese, potato wedges, and baked beans on top of it.

WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH US?

On today's agenda: quinoa, kale, and a juice cleanse.  Maybe an exorcism.

I guess curling up on the couch in a fetal position while rubbing your abused belly and making the occasional whimpering noise is as good a time as any to read some research on Early Modern Spanish spirituality and mysticism. Was it the Holy Spirit or Satan that inspired these holy visions? This was at the heart of much of Inquisitorial Spanish investigation. Similarly: Was it the Holy Spirit or Satan that compelled us to order a horrific number of chicken wings yesterday?

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition--in particular not in your bowels.

In any case, the only thing to do now is to drink a mug or two of Holy Coffee and hope that it casts the demons out. Delicious crispy fried demons.

The power of Christ compels you...to leave my colon!

***

Day Six Update:

I went out to try and heal as much of our rotted insides as much as possible by heading to the grocery store to pick up healthier food items than FIFTY FRIED CHICKEN WINGS.

So then I did this thing where I smothered both sides of a chicken breast in salt, pepper, pesto, and a drizzle of lemon juice. Then I pan seared it in a little bit of olive oil (Okay okay, and a pat of butter. Mainly because I only had one pat left in a little container and I wanted to clean out our fridge. Also, fats are good now, mkay?) over a medium high heat. Here's what it looked like mid-sear.

What is that pink thing in the bottom right corner of the chicken? Do I have to put a NSFW tag on this post?

Then I let it finish in a 400 degree oven for ten minutes. Here's what it looked like when it was done and sliced. Guys. This chicken breast was perfect. And nary a weird chicken ladyflower in sight. Those are sliced sun dried tomatoes in the corner.

Meanwhile, I had sautéd some onions and garlic in some olive oil in a medium sized pan. Then I threw in some shredded carrots. Then I added some quinoa and the appropriate amount of chicken stock. Then I covered it and let it cook on a medium low heat for a while--I don't know, long enough for me to hang up some more Christmas ornaments on our Dogwood tree outside, fill our bird houses with seed, and sweep our living room. When I finished all that, I uncovered the pan and let the quinoa finish cooking out. Then, I added a couple handfuls of kale, and a little bit of toasted sliced almonds, dried cranberries, goat cheese crumbles, sun dried tomatoes, and black pepper.

Ta da. My bowels gurgle with excitement over being treated compassionately again. Or maybe it just gurgled because I fed it too much fried chicken yesterday. Notice the celery, apples, and carrots in the background of this artfully posed Instagram photo. Some fresh juice will complete our exorcism.

Hope everyone had a good weekend. One more week of classes and it's finals week. But what does that matter to me? I'm ABD. Yea boi.

Merry Blahgmas: Day Five!

Things I did today when I should have been working on my dissertation:

1. Watched Youtube videos in bed. Who are these beauty gurus who are so good at doing makeup, but when I try to do what they do I look like a hooker clown?

2. Watched an episode of The Mindy Project on Hulu in bed. Because I fell asleep in the middle of an episode last night. Once I start something, I work really hard to complete it. (LIKE YOUR DISSERTATION, ACADAEMIA NUT?)

3. Drank coffee in bed. I end up washing our fleece blanket like twice a week because of my habit of spilling coffee on it. Whoops.

4. Went to Home Depot to buy a Christmas wreath, one box of overpriced but beautiful Martha Steward ornaments for our Dogwood tree in the front yard, and kindling for our fireplace. Can someone just give me an Honorary Doctorate in Making Our House Cute and Cozy? Because I think I deserve one. And it would probably be as useful as a Ph.D in Musicology. BA DUM.

5. Bought a ridonkulous amount of chicken wings with Professor Schmoobins. We may be smart, but we do not have self control. We are really good at justifying our bad decisions, though. "It's not expensive, and I've heard it's like the best fried chicken." "We should probably get some extra wings so we don't have to worry about food later." "Yeah, let's just get enough food that we don't have to leave the house again." "We should probably get a pint of the mac n' cheese since half a pint won't be enough." "And a pint of baked beans too. They look really good."

I mean.

6. Cleaned the kitchen, cleaned the living room, hung up the wreath, and started a fire. (See: Honorary Doctorate)

7. Updated my work information on Facebook.

8. Posted this blog.

Oh god. There are six hours left in the day. What else can I do to successfully evade the Dissertation Monster?

Merry Blahgmas: Day Four!

I did this thing in the kitchen last night/this morning.

I started off--the way I start off 99% of my dinner dishes--by sauteing garlic and onions in a pan with olive oil. Then I added some ground bison (!) to brown. At this point, I started seasoning: salt, pepper, the usual. Then I started throwing things in from the fridge that need to get used up before they go bad. In this case, it was half a bag of shredded carrots, our final remaining summer garden eggplant, and one bunch of kale. At this point, I decided that the dish was starting to take on some kind of Middle Eastern-ish vibe (maybe it was the eggplant?) so I got funky and sprinkled on some garam masala. I think I was searching for the nutmeg in our horribly unorganized (for shame) spice cupboard and gave up after ten seconds, so I figured garam masala would do the trick. Finally, I threw all caution to the wind and topped it all off with a handful of raisins and sliced almonds.

Meanwhile, I had halved, seasoned, and baked a butternut squash that had been sitting and being neglected in our fridge for like over a month. I have no idea how long butternut squashes stay good, but apparently it is forever forever ever forever ever. I think I probably roasted it for twenty minutes at 400 degrees. Or something like that.

Anyway. When it was all ready to finish, I scooped the Improvisatory Meat Mixture into the squash halves, shredded a poop ton of goat cheddar cheese on top, and baked it at 450 degrees for probably another ten minutes. Et voila!

Oh. And then I had Improvisatory Meat Mixture leftovers, so I decided to make an omelet the next morning.

Wait, I'm leaving something out.

With dinner, Professor Schmooblins and I enjoyed a martini. And then I enjoyed a mar-two-ni. And then my body reminded me that I am very obviously no longer in my twenties, so I shriveled up into a miserable dehydrated mess, suffered through a fitful night of gin-and-olive-juice-marinated sleep, and woke up needing to guzzle a gallon of water. And needing something fatty and meaty and eggy to wake up my shriveled up old cells. So I decided to make an omelet.

Please, let's take a moment together to marvel at how beautifully my gorgeous Mauviel carbon steel pan cooks eggs. The pan was a wedding gift and weighs about fifty billion pounds. I've legit nearly snapped my wrist on more than one occasion attempting to lift it out of the oven with one hand while it was full of something delicious (probably meat). Also, I failed at like my first two attempts at seasoning it. But the beauty of this pan is that it forgives and forgives and forgives. And it makes beautiful eggs, especially when you coat it first with a healthy amount of butter. Duh.

I mean. Just look at that soft, buttery, pillowy goodness.

I need a moment.

Ok, I'm back. When the eggs are just only a little bit runny on top, dump your leftovers from the previous night and fold it over. Ta da! You officially have an omelet.

Serve with a leftover risotto ball, sprinkle with hot sauce (and ketchup, if you're nasty, which I am). Enjoy with a hot cup of coffee and a gallon of water.

Then jump in the shower and do your best to try and get through the work day even though all you want to do is stay at home in a deliciously cozy couch blanket burrito cocoon. 

Merry Blahgmas 2015: Day Three!

Greetings! For today's post, I figured I'd do a #tbt Throwback Thursday, just for kicks. Especially since I didn't even post any Thanksgiving pictures on any of my other social media (like, whoa). And how the hell am I supposed to get my daily prescribed dose of social affirmation if I don't post every single aspect of my mundane existence for friends and family and acquaintances to see?

In any case, one week ago was Thanksgiving. As has been our tradition for many years, the husband, Professor Schmoobles, and I stay in town--can we talk about how expensive air travel is now UGH--and invite any similarly-positioned friends, colleagues, and students over for a casual binge-fest. Typically, I will take care of cooking the mains and a handful of sides, and guests will bring some extra goodies. The only thing that I always insist on making (no matter the energy and motivation level) is lumpia. It helps me feel connected to my family's Thanksgivings back in California, despite the fact that we now live on the opposite side of the country. I've gotten so good at making lumpia IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF that I don't even need to consult my mom's (i.e. The Best) recipe anymore.

I mean. Look at how glorious. 40 lumpias are enough for seven people, right? Also please note my lovely bowl of persimmons, my favorite tree-grown product of the winter season. Usually, my dear mother sends me a package of them from our tree back home, but she said this year was a non-producing year for the tree. (Slacker tree.) Luckily, our nearby Asian grocery was selling these beauties for like $1.99 a pound, so I got myself a bowlful.

Fry day, fry day. Gotta get down on fry day.

As for the turkey, we decided to do the deep fry thing this year. Our friends live near us and have a deep fryer, so they offered to let Schmooblins come over in the morning and fry the sucker. How could we say no? When in the South, do as the Southerners do, as they say. It came out super crispy and not at all dry on the inside. Unfortunately, we ruined the optimum deliciousness possibility by scheduling our actual get together later in the afternoon, so our poor fried turkey had to sit on our counter (and then gently reheated in the oven) for hours before we sliced in, and by that point, I think it had lost some its pizzazz. *sad trombone* I'm thinking that next year, I may completely do away with all the traditional Thanksgiving fare (Except for the lumpia. DO NOT MESS WITH THE LUMPIA.) and just cook dishes that I want to cook. Maybe some more international stuff. Some stews. Or whatever.

Anyway, so we had Schmooblins' new TA and his wife, another TA, a fellow grad school friend, and an undergraduate student from China come over. I think maybe the undergrad was a little underwhelmed. When Schmoobs was driving him back after dinner, he apparently said that he doesn't quite "get" Thanksgiving (understandable) because they don't celebrate it in China...but that they do celebrate Black Friday. HA. Go figure.

In other news: I passed by our School of Music Director today and wished him a "Happy Birthday! ...according to Facebook!" and he then told me that he thought I was the funniest person on Facebook and that he always wants to "like" all my posts, but that he can't "for obvious reasons." Haha. To which I replied, "Oh, I know. Professionalism and all that. Maybe someday I'll learn that lesson, too." If someone can just explain to me how I might go about earning a salary just from posting idiotic and vaguely inappropriate Facebook posts, that would be great. Please and thank you in advance.

And finally, Dissertation Progress Update: Today I have managed to finally FINALLY finish reading an article that I have been chipping away at at which I have been chipping away for like two weeks. Here's the problem with being an un-funded ABD doctoral student with bills (INCLUDING TUITION UGH) to pay and cute lip glosses to buy: you have to fit in all of your dissertation work schedule around a real life work schedule. In my case, this means reading a couple pages here, a few paragraphs there, and gradually adding data to my Excel spreadsheet (yea boi research organization) and slowly but surely (emphasis on slowly) adding to the word count of my dissertation document. Anyway, so, yeah, article read. Two new articles found to read. Two books requested through Interlibrary Loan. And three other books requested from our campus main library. Looks like I'll have a good reading list to keep at my work desk for the next few weeks.

Merry Blogmas 2015: Day One (...and Two!)

(One day late. Because, of course.)

There's this thing that Youtubers and vloggers do every December called "Vlogmas." Essentially, you upload one video every day starting on December 1 up until Christmas. It must be an offshoot of the whole NaNoWriMo thing. Anyway, not important. What is important is that since I'm trying to start up this new blahg, I should really take this opportunity to force myself into doing a Blogmas this month. Even if I am a day late.

That being said--Greetings from my Office Job 2 desk! By way of introduction, perhaps I should go into a little background. I am a fourth-year doctoral student in musicology. "What even is musicology, Acadaemia Nut?" you might ask. Musicology could be a myriad of wonderful and magical things.

It could be this, for example:

Thank you, Prince.

Some fools might say it's this:

Screw you, Urban Dictionary. You don't know me.

But in reality, it's totally this:

Ahahaha. Hahahaha. Sigh.

So, long story short, I finished my third and final year of doctoral coursework last year, passed my qualifying exams, defended my dissertation prospectus, achieved ABD status, felt pretty good about myself for about two months, got married, etc. The only bad thing (Well, not the ONLY bad thing. See above memes.) about all this is that my program only offers three years of assistantship funding--which is a whole entire source of extended and intensive grievances.

Which is why I find myself here. A mid-thirties humanities graduate student, working two office jobs (both at the University), freelancing on the side, and dreaming of a life in which I am finally a salaried, self-sufficient, adult human being. But in the meantime, I guess I'll keep on trying to work on this goddamn dissertation.

Alright. Until tomorrow, then.

Merry Blogmas!

Merry Blahgmas!

Bah Humblahgmas!