Thursday, September 28, 2006

Day One

After using Brown's shuttle service for the first time, I saw the podiatrist. He had me take a couple x-rays and looked at my orthotics (which I think are about 10 years old). He complimented me on my astute diagnosis: I have post-tibial tendonitis. If there was any doubt before, let this moment dispel that doubt and instead replace it with hella smartness.

Anyway, he said my only real protocol for now is to take 400mg of ibuprofen, three times a day for ten days, as well as 30 minutes of ice, twice a day for a couple weeks. So, we're gonna count up (down really) the days and see how my foot is doing along the way. Simple enough.

On a somewhat tangental note, in the process of waiting for the shuttle, girls actually talked to me. And one even introduced herself. I must have smelled nice. Also, I didn't manage to convince the podiatrist's office that my co-pay was $1. A man can try, right?

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Day Hrrrm

Indeed, so it seems like I've set myself an interesting deadline: next Tuesday, I have to have a draft of my prelim paper completed. I managed to volunteer to give a talk on it on the 10th, and we agreed to have something circulated to the discussants by the 3rd. So here I am, having written let's say a third of it haphazardly and my confidence has dropped because of my own laziness.

Of course I'll get it done -- I need to save face. My trepidation is that the more I think about the paper, the less I'm convinced by it. So, of course, I should write it and not think. Easy.

So the Niners are 1-1. According to the Tecmo Super Bowl adaptation for the 2006 season (which I got here), the Niners should be 2-0, and if my game calling is as good as Mike Nolan's (well or vice-versa), we should be beating the Eagles this weekend 63-3, allowing negative rushing yards.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

These Are the Days

The joke goes "You know you're in graduate school when... you accept that guilt is a necessary part of relaxation." And so here I am, accepting that the guilt I feel at the moment is a result of me not working on some funding proposal or my prelim paper or my dissertation proposal, at least physically (that is, putting something down on paper). As a theme, this isn't new for my blog, but it rears its head in my life so often with such effect that it's worth mentioning.

I had two meetings on Wednesday with two of the professors on my disseration committee. They gave me some pretty diverent advice in terms of where I should go with my work. That again isn't atypical (or "it's typical"), but to reproduce the jist of both meetings here on the blog seems daunting and potentially draining. Even telling people verbally is like recounting the story of a bad haircut, over and over again. It's a little paralyzing -- you'd think that telling people would help alleviate some of my trepidation, but it just reveals to me how anxious I am about it all.

So I've tried to let it marinate, let it stew, boil the bring to a simmer. So far, I open up the pot and the smell reminds me of how much I can't bring myself to eat the contents just yet. I hope I get a little psychic push some time this week.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Day Whew!

So it's September 15th -- payday. As of a couple days ago, I was $40 under my projected budget, but I figured as long as I kept to eating things in my house, then I'd be fine. So, of course, I spend $10 at Au Bon Pain for two meals.

I have to say though, as the school year started my mind drifted to worrying about my nuts-ass dissertation proposal instead of my lack of funds. So admittedly, today arrived with less of a flourish or even a splash. And then... I checked my balance online and found out I got a raise. Of $50 per check. That wasn't bad news at all.

And so with the coffers fuller than they had been since July, I can break out for other stressful reasons.

Though I don't watch American Idol, I happen to watch Celebrity Duets. The only draw for me is that they have celebrities (debatable) sing with the most innocuous singers that you'd probably hear on your local adult contemporary station. So that means for me I get to see the greatest singers ever. Taylor Dayne sang a duet with Jai Rodriguez from Queer Guy, and last week Lucy Lawless of Zena fame sang with Kenny Loggins! Cheech Marin sang with Aaron Neville tonight, and Alfonso Ribiero sang with Denice Williams ("Let's Hear it for the Boy" -- I saw her sing that on SNL).

It's like my iPod is on television.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Day Twenty-Seven

I got up late-ish today, managed to write a couple more discontiguous pages and then half-run around the East Side of Providence, testing out my foot. Let me just say, while the park along the river here is nice, it's very, very creepy on account of the old gay men cruising there, just sitting in their cars.

I also got a response from a medical study I inquired about. This sleep study promised to pay around $1800 for nine days of observation. Not too bad, but the problem is that I can't give up nine consecutive days for it. Maybe when I'm writing my dissertation I can revisit it, but I'd probably get my ass kicked either literally or figuratively for disappearing for nine days.

Mike came back today and so we went grocery shopping. Because now our groceries are split 3 ways, the economy of scale kicks back in and I'm spending $40 a week instead of $60. That should help me hit my target marks for the next week, if I don't go nuts eating out for lunch.

So Patrick was surprised people think he's a hipster. Or rather, he was surprised that people were surprised when they didn't think he was not a hipster -- wrap your brain around that double negative.

So apparently I'm more hipster than Patrick, which to me, is pretty surprising. His assessment: I'm more hipster, but I don't completely belong in the set of hipsters because I'm more built than the regular skinny hipster. My response: I guess?

One of Patrick's criteria was that hipsters like things ironically; Patrick says he's not a hipster because he doesn't like things ironically. Now, I do like things ironically, but not the same things that hipsters like. For instance, I could really care less about David Hassellhoff, but I do like Laura Branigan.

Arguably though, I do like Yacht Rock, but not as much as I like your regional "at-work" radio station. I had the following songs blasting from my speakers today:

Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton - "We've Got Tonight"
James Ingram - "Just Once"
Sergio Mendes - "Never Gonna Let You Go"
Sheena Easton - "For Your Eyes Only"
Brenda Russell - "Piano in the Dark"
Amy Grant - "Every Heartbeat"
Roxette - "It Must Have Been Love"
Chaka Khan - "Through the Fire"
Steve Winwood - "Higher Love"

My roommate Andrew remarked "It's like I'm in a dentist's office." Is it because you're smiling so confidently?

Monday, September 04, 2006

Day Twenty-Six

I have finished my requirements for classes for the rest of my life -- I don't need to take any academic classes ever again. Thinking about that revealed to me that I might never ever meet any new people ever again; I'm going to spend the rest of my life holed up in an office, pondering what the heck is going on with the middle class somewhere in the world.

So, to remedy this, I'm looking for non-academic classes to take. Dance, acting, basket weaving -- whatever. The problem is, Providence as a center of higher learning is great, but as a center of casual learning is craptastic, or even craptastically pooptacular. Craigslist has provided me one dance class -- hip-hop dance -- for $35 for 3 classes. Problem is, they're held on Thursday evenings, which I think will be the new Latin American Studies Workshops in Culture, Politics, and Society which I'm helping to coordinate (sounds sexy, no?).

As for acting classes, I managed to find one. But for $175, that's gonna put me over budget. I could conceivably take them though: Monday nights from 7-10pm. I guess in the real world, if you want to learn, you gotta pay.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Day Twenty-Four

I tried sprinting on Wednesday with spikes. Nothing hard, just 150s at the indoor track here. I managed to get 6 in before I couldn't lift my legs anymore. Everything felt fine until later that day when my feet really started to hurt pretty badly. The right food felt it much more than the left and I was half-limping around the supermarket (which, I can assure you, is very sexy-looking).

My self-diagnosis is posterior tibial tendonitis -- which is an inflammation of the tendon supporting the arch of the foot, essentially. I spent the day at home to take care of it, which is a slightly better excuse than staying home to save money. There was much icing and massaging, and I guess I'll have to pop some ibuprofens before bedtime.

The good thing is that the gym will be occupied this weekend by the class of '10 while they sign up for every activity possible, and then closed on Monday. That should give me a few days to recover from this. Hopefully, it's not an acute case -- no one named Oslec that I know wants to have more surgery.