Another academic milestone

Today I got permission to write my thesis. Technically I've been writing it for months, but now I have official permission to do so. The meeting confirms that yes, I have enough data to make a useful thesis, and no, I don't have to go back and do more fieldwork.

So now that this particular hoop has been jumped through, I have to address the writing of the thesis bits I've put off to the end - namely the introduction and conclusion. Oh, and the analysis I still have left.

Excellent. Clearly not stressful at all.

If anyone needs me I'll be passed out in front of my computer - please call occasionally!

Proposed formula

An ideal Saturday equation (in weird student world, where every saturday involves work):

Saturday = hx[(S)/(r x V)] + W

where:
h = number of hours (inversely proportional to W)
x = Shopaholic Coefficient
S = shopping
r = need and desirability quotient
V = visa limit
W= work

Shopaholic Coefficient: x = (s x b)/2a

where s = Christmas shoe score
b = Christie bag coefficient
a = income

Feeling Superheroic? Ever wonder who you'd be?

You are Green Lantern

Hot-headed. You have strong will power and a good imagination. I saw this superhero test on someone's blog and just couldn't resist taking it. It may not be "scientifically approved" who doesn't want to know these things? Thankfully I'm cape free, as I've seen The Incredibles and wouldn't want to risk anything... Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...

Vodka test anyone?

From me this week: "Has anyone seen my self-esteem"?

Yes, there was more re-writing of the same section, which was fine because it was really quite a mess. But the problem is that when you rush things, and get told to re-think them and write them again, you aren't doing yourself any favours.

So imagine my surprise today when I was able to help out a friend - with statistics! That's right people, the math gene may be AWOL, but some of this stats stuff is sticking. We figured out the
kolmogorov-smirnov statistical test (known to me as the Vodka test) and used it effectively to figure out the distribution of the data. Furthermore (or "Further" for J girl), we ran some other tests and understood the results! Shocking, no? So I found a tiny thread of my damaged self-esteem. I knew it was lurking there somewhere.

I'm spending some time with my tiny little zen garden now. It's supposed to clear your mind and bring you peace. I'm not sure that it's managing "peace" per say, but it's fun to drop the rocks and mess up the sand. Speaking of peace, I'm off to do the vodka test - using a tumbler, not SPSS.

Trying to make my thesis "zen". This was right before I dropped rocks on it and destroyed it. Now that was fun!

My tiny Zen Sand Garden, which is supposed to clear the mind of all stress, pressures, and mental turmoil. I don't know about that, but it's fun to rake. And the sand spills alarmingly easily.

Choose your own textbooks...

Remember the choose your own adventure books? Well, this is like that, but with textbooks.

New legislation is up for a vote in Arizona which would require public colleges to provide students with “alternative coursework” if a student finds the assigned material “personally offensive,” which is defined as something that “conflicts with the student’s beliefs or practices in sex, morality or religion.”

Students have the right to choose which courses they want to take, and they can choose to not take courses if they're uncomfortable with the material. On the first day of every course I've ever done a syllabus was provided listing the readings. If a student didn't want to read those texts, they have the option to drop the course. But students should not have the right to dictate which books can and can't be taught. Some professors are trying to take students out of their comfort zone and challenge them - which is part of the university experience, is it not? Universities aren't there to coddle students and cater to their every need, they provide a service, which isn't always "fun".

One Senator acknowledged that additional negotiations might be needed. He said that he doubted colleges would follow the bill’s provisions now “because of the whole academic freedom thing.” Right, that.

And one bright spark actually sat through the reading of the syllabus, ignored the warnings about the "adult themes" of some of the works (including the satiric wife-swapping section of "The Ice Storm"), and several weeks into the course he demanded an alternate set of readings. He did say that he hadn't been paying attention earlier when the texts were discussed. I guess his case wasn't going the way he wanted because he resorted to step 2: having his mom call the college president and complain. Atta boy.

What's going to stop a student in a literature class (who really thinks the book is just too long or boring) from claiming that it's against his religion/sex/morals/feelings about mockingbirds? Instead, just pay attention in the beginning of the class and drop before the penalty date. But hey, if we get that rule here, I could find statistical analysis morally repugnant couldn't I?

really officer, it was just one drink...

On February 13 the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department issued a report on Vice President Dick Cheney's accidental shooting of a fellow quail hunter. The VP accidently shot a 78 year old man in the face, neck and chest with a 28-gauge shotgun. He had a license to shoot (game, not people), but lacked the "upland game bird stamp". As a result, he received a warning citation, which has no fine or penalty. The local Sheriff's office issued a press release noting that no alcohol was involved. Fine. Except...

The initial report said there was no drinking, but now Cheney has admitted he had "a beer" at lunch. So he's gone from none to at least one, keeping in mind that he did shoot a guy in the face. He also mentioned that he'd had a cocktail after the shooting, presumably to calm down. Interestingly, in the incident report, where it said "was alcohol involved?" the answer was "no" rather than "unknown".

The matter was covered up for a couple of days, which apparently was "not a question of cover-up. Private hunting accident made public because it was the Vice President who shot someone. If the Veep had been shot, it would have been another matter." Very nice. It doesn't matter if it's the other guy that gets shot (from a national perspective), as long as it's not the VP.

Well, it'll be interesting to see what plays out now that alcohol is in play. Lesson for the rest of us: don't go quail hunting with the VP of the US, and never drink before picking up a shotgun (duh).

Wherefor do thou work?

Uh oh. I got a whole bunch of books today - but it's not my fault! I can feel the glare/amusement warring in my leather wearing, book-toting, procrastinating friend, Mrs.Gestating. She's saying "you should be working!" And she's right. But they're Christmas presents, arriving a bit late. My mom ordered them for me in December, and a couple were backordered.

So now they're sitting there, taunting me. A whole pile of them. And the terms "stochastic processes", "multi-criteria evaluation and decision making", "methodology", or "concordance analysis" are nowhere in the titles! These are glorious novels, chick flick trash, and literature that are in no way related to anything scholastic. Their words beckon me, trying to seduce me with "just one chapter".

I could cave, but then we all know where I'd be...sitting in the chair in my supervisor's office tomorrow saying "what? you wanted me to do what yesterday? I could give a comparative analysis of Irish chick lit vs. English chick lit...that's not good enough?!?" Alas, I'll go back to the SIA on GHGs and MCE techniques (not including AHP), but I'm not happy about it!

Post-Valentine's Day Dissection

So maybe your Valentine's Day sucked. Or maybe you had a romantic evening with roses, champagne and chocolates (in which case, I don't want to hear about it). But just in case you're moping, thinking that you had the worst V-Day and you're definitely going to die alone, allow me to present some "advice" (stories actually) that will show you it could have been worse.

Helpful Valentine's Day-esque points for men (aka things to note if you want to date me or my friends):

1) if you meet a girl, and you're chatting and exchanging emails/IMing, sending her a message that you've met someone else is a fine way to break things off. However, if you're telling her that you have a serious relationship with someone else only six days after hitting on her, something is wrong. NEVER finish the email with: 'maybe if it doesn't work out with her I'll give you a call'. Ah, so you have occasional doubts about your six day love affair? Good luck with that "relationship" and DO NOT send me another email. Block/Delete.

2) if you're separated from your wife, you're still married. This is NOT the same thing as single. Move along please.

3) you should not be wearing any of the following: a Hawaiian shirt, socks with sandals (in February), tight pants, leather pants, or tight leather pants.

4) wanting a girl who has life goals is excellent. It's unfortunate (from the girl's point of view) that the closest thing to ambition you ever displayed was your burning desire to judge the next Ms. White T-Shirt contest. Block/Delete.

5) don't mention your mom and dad every five minutes of our date. And move out of their house - you're 30-something and it's NOT sexy.

Hopefully these tragic scenarios will never apply to you. I wish I could say they were hypothetical...but sadly, they're all true (though they didn't all happen to me). So married or single, action or lack thereof, your Valentine's day could always have been worse!

Thanks to yoga and Ms.Fantastic my Valentine's day included stretching and Bellinis. Not bad at all.

The Essential Valentine's Day Post

According to Hallmark, love is in the air (hear that? Love, not kisses, are in the air!)

Women, in particular, take a variety of positions on the testy topic of Valentine's Day. Some find it exasperating, taking the position that it's an overly-commercialism holiday destined to make singles miserable. Others are petulant or contemptuous, dealing out sarcastic comments and acerbic scorn. And some women are hopeful for future relationships. But what does Valentine's Day really do? It's supposed to give people a chance to express love and appreciation to people they care about.

I agree that it's Valentine's Day is over-commercialized. And I wouldn't even complain if someone showed up here (randomly) with flowers, chocolates etc. I don't think people should need a day to be nice to people they love, but since it's been designated as a day for couples, everyone should make the best of it.

People that are single on Valentine's day tend to lament that fact, and wish for some sort of relationship. However, there are many married couples out there who will happily point out that single people don't need to live with someone else's annoying quirks, messy habits, or irritating family members. In rebuttal we offer arguments such as: if you died someone would actually notice; if you're sick, there's someone to cook for you (or at least buy you chicken soup); and there's always someone who's legally required to be there for you.

So yes, sometimes married people envy the freedom and carefree days that singles enjoy. And sometimes single people envy the stability and comfort offered by the long-term relationships. And yes, as Christie (2006) points out, singles would switch with them in a second, but it's doubtful if they would actually switch with us. So the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence - maybe not all the time (such as when you have a really attentive husband, or a good date, for married types and single types respectively), but at least once in a while.

So what's the point? Well, married or single, for better or worse, Valentine's Day exists in all of it's hallmark glory and we should make the best of it. Tell someone (anyone) that you appreciate them and you care about them. Be specific, and maybe give them some cinnamon hearts or flowers. However, watch out for the less than classy bouquets.

The absolute worst line I saw was for a flower delivery service, which offered the following line attached to a Valentine's Day bouquet: "I have a heart on for you". (shudder) There were children in this flower store! Can you imagine the misguided individual who thinks this is a sexy thing to send to his poor girlfriend?

In other helpful points:

-do not ask a women out for valentine's day if it's a first date, and you're asking less than 24 hours in advance. You look desperate and then she's creeped out and thinking that her cat would be a better date (inspired by a true story).

-single women do things in packs (ever seen just one go to the bathroom?). So if it's National Couples Day (aka Valentine's Day), it's likely that you'll see women out together enjoying "freedom". Go ahead, hit on one of them. If they're out with the girls, they're single. But don't expect too much, as they never leave their wingmen and you will go home alone.

-if you're recently singled, you will recover eventually. Feel free to indulge in whatever you need including: Ben & Jerry's (I recommend Cherry Garcia), sappy movies, bitter calls to friends, or the whole write a letter and don't mail it thing (stay away from email - you can have a horrible situation with the accidental hitting of 'send'). But never, EVER drink and dial!

-do not whine about how you hate that you're expected to buy flowers just because it's valentine's day. Suck it up - at least you have a date! And take heart, if you were dating me, you'd be expected to show up with flowers more than once a year.

-and finally, if you have some sort of actual relationship situation, make sure you tell the other person that you care about them (but not using any type of Heart On language).

If there was a fire, what would YOU take?

Today I was happily working on my thesis when the fire alarm went off. My first thought? "Hey, I wonder if they'll send the cute firemen?" Right, because they're going to stop hosing down the psudo-fire to ask me out on some sort of date situation. Hey, it may not be the most professional thing ever, but it could happen!

That thought only took half a second to go through my head, and then the next thought was "WHAT do I take?". I was betting on the fact that it was a false alarm, so ruled out the entire computer. But just in case, I grabbed both flashdrives and the back-up hard drive and threw them in my purse. Conveniently it already contained my wallet, sunglasses, cell phone, and a movie stub from a movie I saw before Christmas (how helpful). Picture albums? Seattle, my favourite childhood teddy bear? Lunch? Make-up so I look presentable when the firemen get here? No time for any of that. Gloves and hat - check. Coat (it's winter after all) - check.

I entered the hall and immediately started coughing on the smoke (OMG, an ACTUAL FIRE?!?) - should I go back for the laptop?

There was a guy loitering on the front stoop (to rob me of my last earthly possessions?), but he lives here and told me that it's his apartment that's smoking. "On fire?" I asked him. But no, he's too calm for it to be a fire. Just lots and lots of smoke. Apparently he went to school, forgetting about the pot of water he was boiling. It boiled down and then started to smoke/catch on fire. He got back in time to deal with the situation though.

The fire alarm was damn loud, and the fact that the building wasn't going to burn down restored my hope of meeting the firemen. However, the smoke was gross, so we opened windows, and held doors while we waited. Alas, it was to no avail...the firemen never showed up. I think someone called them and told them it was a false alarm. Mind your own business people!

So here I sit, smelling like smoke and burned hot dogs (it's really gross) with no date. I've just febreezed the entire hallway upstairs and down, and I've opened windows all over the place. On the bright side, I did get outside today, at least for a few minutes. So that's my almost life and death experience for the day.

Moral of the story: if you're going to set something on fire (actual or pseudo), or even subject people to a loud fire alarm, make sure the firemen actually show up!

A version of my week

I haven't posted in a while, but allow me to take you on a little trip...

You're on a train - the third car- travelling along the well worn tracks when the train slams into another train. The other train explodes in a fiery mass and is catapulted off the tracks, and the first train (that you're on) slams headfirst into a car, a couple of sheep, and finally comes to a stop when the first two cars fall off a cliff. The third car, a crumpled mass, is lying there off the tracks when it starts to rain. Lightening hits the third car, and the rain starts a mudslide that buries the (now on fire again) train. A huge earthquake opens the earth and swallow the mud-buried train.

My thesis was was that third car, and what a train wreck it has become...

I'm hoping that someone will come along and dig it out, put it in a museum, and make the site some sort of historical landmark.

I'd say something about the light at the end of the tunnel, but train analogies just haven't worked out for me this week (and let's face it, it would be the third train coming to run me over).

Interesting News - Worst Fears Confirmed

So, dying alone...it could actually happen - and that's not the worst thing!

This post may discourage people from applying to Grad School. Good. You can save your eyesight, bank account, marriage prospects, and heart health if you stay far away from grad school. But that's primarily if you're female. As evidence I present the following points:

1) In the past I neither wore glasses, nor was in grad school. Now I wear glasses. I blame grad school.

2) I never had money, and still don't, but it's reasonable to assume that I might have got a job and made money. Thus, grad school is to blame for the lack of funds.

3) According to two recent studies, in Britain and the United States, more intelligent women are less likely to find a man who wants to marry them. In fact, a women's chances of marriage are dramatically reduced in direct relation to their level of intelligence. For each 16-point jump in their IQ, their marriage prospects decreased by 40 percent.

Now, thankfully, I'm no genius. But I don't have the intelligence of a sand gnat either. And, one could argue that if you'e in grad school, you're probably smarter than a many people. And I don't know about other women, but I prefer to date men whose idea of reading literature doesn't include a cereal box. I'd have to say that on the list of qualities I look for in a man, intelligence is right up there with a dry sense of humor and some sort of looks (preferably nice ones). Having a dog is nice too. But I digress...

In contrast, a man's chances for marriage are increased by 35 percent with each 16-point IQ rise. Excellent. So everyone's hunting down the smart men, and avoiding the smart women. Dying alone seems quite possible, especially if this thesis actually does me in.

4) According to the illustrious GNC magazine (2006), a University of California study found that participants who had limited emotional support (read: they stayed in their apartments and wrote their thesis, and had no boyfriend) were more likely to have a coronary condition. Seriously? If I stay in grad school and write my thesis, never seeing anyone because I don't leave my living room, I'll have Coronary Artery Disease/Angina/MI? Thank you U of California for that uplifting piece of research.

Other (minor) side effects of grad school include:

-a dangerously unhealthy relationship with pets (you may think your pet can play pictionary or do yoga, but it really, really can't).

-hearing the words "this needs some serious re-thinking" makes you wonder if your toaster would float or sink in the bathtub.

-a complete lack of self-confidence, and the inability to see anything as constructive criticism, but rather an all out assualt on your intelligence and worth as a human being (Christie, 2006) . This, sadly, is true.

But maybe I should seriously re-think some things.