Seriously lucky

I'm about to finish my first semester as a doctoral student and I fully intend to write a post about that, but in the meantime I just have to say that I have been seriously lucky with the ward I landed in. Last week I went to church after being gone for three weeks (sick, Utah, sick) and I was shocked at the number of people who came up to me, asked me where I had been, and told me they had missed me. There are just really good people here, and they have been incredibly kind to me. It's always a pleasant surprise to be in a great ward because let's face it, there are some doozies out there (yeah, that's right, I said it.).

Also, as an aside, I just read through that first paragraph and ended up removing three unnecessary commas. Tess Morris, my high school English teacher, would be so proud. Her favorite thing to write on my papers was CS! which of course stood for Comma Splice! Apparently some things never change, even as a doctoral student I am still just trying to please Mrs. Morris.

I am now ready to be advised

Because I officially have my advisers! I am very excited, kind of because I said I would ask them this week and get it taken care of but didn't really believe I would actually do it. Look at me doing stuff I say I'm going to do.

Anyway, I spoke to my major adviser on Monday and she was totally gracious about accepting and actually even seemed pleased that I had asked. She is one of my current professors (in fact earlier in this blog I said that she was scary. Obviously I take that back wholeheartedly, she's actually a lovely person (and I'm not just saying that because I've hitched my star to hers for the next 4 years)) and she studies international norms and institutions with an emphasis on the censure of states when international norms are broken. Now for those of you paying careful attention you will notice the lack of the words "war" or "peace" in there. I've shifted my thinking a bit and I am still intending to study conflict, I'm just going to approach it on a smaller, less wholly international level. It's hard to explain and I don't have time right now anyway, but I'm excited about it.

I had to email my minor adviser because he's not teaching this semester. He wrote back this morning and said he, "has no problem with being my minor adviser." I know, it doesn't sound like he's delighted beyond measure, but since he has a reputation for being somewhat irascible and I half expected him to say no, I am delighted with his response.

Anyhoo, I'm a happy camper right now and feel like I've made really good choices.

Things and stuff

I just finished reading a book that was recommended to me by one of the few people whose reading recommendations I will always take (yes, I am a snob who carefully screens recommendations). I had time to finish the book because I have a terrible cold and so stayed home from church (and they of course sustained me in my new calling the one Sunday I miss. More about that later). The book is called The Elegance of the Hedgehog and it is a beautiful book. It's French, with all of the implications that come with that, and at times it got a bit pretentious for my taste (it's the disconnect between wanting something to be popular and yet obscure at the same time). The end made me cry and was one of those books that I want to fling across the room when I finish (I don't know, there's just something satisfying about throwing a book that has made you think and feel) but of course I had to restrain myself since I was actually reading it on my Kindle (best invention and gift ever).

I haven't written much lately and of course it's because previously exotic Indiana (heh) has become normal for me and I no longer think in terms of what I can share because it's all pretty normal. Also I've been busy. School is going quite well and I'm feeling like I have more of a grasp on what I eventually want to study. I'm going to Utah for Thanksgiving at the end of this week and before I leave I have decided that I have to have talked to my prospective advisers and asked if they will advise me (Purdue requires that you have a major and two minors and you have to choose an adviser in each area). I'm not looking forward to that partially because I hate asking people for things and partially because there is no one who is a really good fit for what I want to study. For my major I have decided to go with someone I think will be a good adviser rather than a perfect fit academic-wise. Cross your fingers that she says yes.

I also now have a calling. I am the Young Women's Personal Progress leader. This makes me laugh. I think it will be pretty delightful working with the young women, but I hated Personal Progress when I was a young woman and now I will be urging others to do what I only did very reluctantly. Such is life.

The weather here has been fairly good. Early in the week it was in the 70s and then dropped down into the 30s a couple of days later and it is now in the 50s. I think the weather is why I'm sick. My body has a hard time adjusting to rapid changes in temperature.

Speaking of being sick, I am ending this now because I have been sitting up too long.

Perspective

Grad student after finding out the printer in the grad lab isn't working and he will have to walk 50 feet down the hall to the undergrad lab:

"It's like we're living in a third world country!"

Uhhhh....

Serious Bonus Points

Before I tell this story let me just preface it by saying that I am not in any way, shape, or form making fun of any of the people involved in this situation.

Now, let me set the scene: I very optimistically agreed to go to a stake single adult dance. I will admit that mostly it was curiosity to see what it was like. I thought I had convinced another woman in the ward to go with me but she bailed at the last minute. So I get to the church 45 minutes late (horror of horrors to actually show up on time to one of these things) and see 7 cars in the parking lot. 3 of them are minivans. My already low expectations drop dramatically. I figure I've come this far so I walk into the church and hear...nothing. No music, no talking, nothing. At this point I'm pretty sure I must have either the time or the place wrong, but again, I've come this far so I continue on. As I walk toward the gym I finally hear someone talking and I get to the door and hesitate just beyond the point when anyone can see me because this is it, once I take one more step I am committed to whatever this is for at least an hour. I stand there indecisively for at least a minute, during which time I ascertain that someone is teaching people how to do the Electric Slide (It's electric!). For some reason this makes me want to see what's actually happening, so I take that final step. And then I am looking at the most depressing vignette I have seen in quite some time. The gym is amply decorated in some sort of awful autumnal/Valentine's Day combination and there are 7 people in the middle of the gym. It turns out the DJ is the one teaching them the Electric Slide (It's electric!).* The DJ's wife is my visiting teacher (and I love and adore her, she is seriously one of my favorite people in Indiana), which is the only reason I had persevered in showing up once my other friend had bailed on me. Anyway, there are 4 women and 3 men there. The men are both in their 60's and the women range from 30 to 70. By the time all of this registers all I want to do is turn and flee, but of course I have been spotted and beckoned and there is no way for me to pretend that I have just accidentally stumbled into the wrong place and actually have a pressing appointment elsewhere.

So naturally I decide to show them all how the Electric Slide (it's electric!) is done.

Ha, no just kidding, I halfheartedly join in the dance all the while calculating exactly how long politeness dictates that I stay.

So depressing.

At least they didn't try to make me do the Boot Scootin' Boogie.

I deserve serious bonus points for going, for staying, for dancing, and for not crying my eyes out afterwards at what my sorry single life has become.**

These bonus points will come in the form of never again having to attend a singles activity.

*I understand that some people won't get this reference, just trust me, it's a terrifying reminder of my junior high days.

**Note, this does not have reference to my being a poor pitiful single person who is sorry for herself, because that is far from the case. It is the representation of what being single apparently means in the Church in Indiana.

Drunkenness and Blessings (Drunk blessings? Wait, no...)

So yesterday in class the professor who has to be called my favorite professor since he responded to my attempts to cancel class Thanksgiving week* somehow got on the subject of drunkenness. I would tell you about the route we took to get there, but really, amongst drinkers is the subject of drunkenness ever more than one degree away? Anyway, he pointed to me and said, "Marin, you look like a big drinker, you know what it's like." To which I responded, "Uh, ok, sure" (it was said sarcastically and was therefore a refutation of his statement even though it doesn't appear so in print). Then a few minutes later he strongly implied that I was probably hungover. Now, I would be worried about this except that 1) it was clear he was kidding about my drinking habits and 2) I was sick as a dog at the time and was mostly concentrating on not throwing up so I couldn't get all that offended at someone saying I looked hungover because as I understand it being hungover mostly involves being sick as a dog and concentrating on not throwing up.

This story has a point (and a good ending!). I was sick all day yesterday and so wasn't able to get some papers done that were due today. I got up very early this morning but if anything I was even sicker. It was to the point that I couldn't actually sit up for fear that the contents of my stomach would also come up. I knew I had to get these papers done today and that I had to attend class because we would be evaluating the papers so I got down on my knees and told Heavenly Father my situation, that I had these things that had to be done and I couldn't do them in the physical condition I was in. I asked that He heal my body enough for me to accomplish what I needed to accomplish. And then I got up and felt that I should do some specific things to help myself feel better. One of them (this is one of the more awesome parts of the story) was that some Diet Coke would help settle my stomach. About fifteen minutes later I was working as though nothing had been wrong. Don't get me wrong, I still didn't feel well (I'm still a little nauseated), but my prayer was most definitely answered and my body was healed enough to accomplish everything I needed.

Wow, am I grateful for prayer today.

*Actual conversation:
Me: Are we really having class the Monday of Thanksgiving week?
Favorite Professor: Yes.
Me: Are you sure we're really having class that week?
FP: Well...
Me: Pretty please?
FP: Ok, why not. Class is cancelled the week of Thanksgiving.
(thank you, my powers of persuasion ARE awesome and apparently my puppy dog look has now been perfected).

Maybe I can do this...Part 2

Last Thursday was a fairly spectacular day for me. Let me count the ways:

1. Purdue FINALLY got around to posting their finals schedule and it turns out that both my finals (neither of which are actually finals; one I'm administering and one is a "recap and celebration") are on the first day of finals week, which means I can get out of here earlier than anticipated. YES.

2. I got an analysis back from my 600 class and I got a 47/50, which was the highest grade in the class (by 4 points). Now, for those of you who ask why it wasn't a 50/50 (and I know you're out there), this professor does not give perfect scores, and in fact getting a score that high is something of a miracle.

3. I was giving a presentation in my International Relations class that day. Quick pause to explain about this class- it is terrifying. It's a seminar on International Relations, so we all do copious amounts of reading and then come to class and discuss it. The professor hardly participates and most often just awkwardly stares at anybody foolish enough to venture a timid remark. Let me tell you, there have been a lot of very long pauses in that class while everybody nervously avoided making eye contact with each other.

Anyway, we had to sign up to present the topic on a given day and I (somewhat foolishly) signed up for an early slot, figuring I would just get it over with. We hadn't been given a whole lot of instruction on what to do with the presentation, so I planned what I wanted to say and then went to talk to my professor about it Thursday morning. She told me I was on the right track and told me that I should be sure to emphasize some of the points in my outline because she thought they were very interesting (hallelujah!). My visit with her was great because not only did it mean that I had the right idea for my presentation and paper, but it showed me that my professor was not a terrifying monster out to eat poor young students alive. It's hard to say which one relieved me more.

3. I gave my presentation and it went very well. Not perfectly of course, but, drum roll please...my professor actually nodded and smiled several times during my presentation. Let me repeat that: MY PROFESSOR NODDED AND SMILED. It was a minor miracle.

Maybe I can do this. I wish I wanted to.

Some might think it's ridiculous to be five weeks into my PhD and still be unsure what it is I am going to study. On the other hand, some might think it ridiculous that they expect me to know what I'm going to study only five weeks into my program. It's like they think I should have made that decision by the time I got to this level.

More fool them.

I bring this up because a couple of weeks ago I went to a lecture by Nicholas Kristof (I went with the stake president's wife, because apparently that's the kind of exalted company I roll with now). For those of you not slavishly reading the New York Times, Nicholas Kristof is an Op-Ed columnist who writes on women in the developing world. His lecture reminded me of why I wanted to go into development work in the first place, which was good, but it also made me question what I'm doing here. I can steer all of my research towards development and all that, but I want to be a practitioner not a researcher. On Saturday somebody asked me how I was liking my program and I told them that I could take it or leave it. And that's the truth. I've been in class for five weeks and it still feels like not a thing has happened that would make me at all sad to get up and walk away from this, and in fact, that's still my preference. Don't get me wrong, I'm not miserable all of the time and for the most part I am succeeding (more about that in the next post), but I just don't care about any of it, and shouldn't I care about what I'm committing my life to for the next five years? The circumstances of my getting here are sufficiently miraculous that I'm not questioning that I needed to come here, but I wish I knew why. Or liked it better. Or cared more.

I would take any of those.

As my dad says, I would complain if I was hung with a new rope. :)

Surprising Things You Can Live Without

I am a poor graduate student. This does not of course mean that I am entirely without funds, but it does mean that some caution is required before spending money. I of course had to spend a large chunk of money moving out here and then moving into my apartment, so basically if it wasn't purchased in the first two weeks I was here when it still felt like I had money, I haven't purchased it. The following is a list of things that seem fairly needed but aren't strictly necessary:

Knives- my ending up without knives was an accident. I thought they were in the kitchen box I had packed at the beginning of the summer and I got here and it turns out they were nowhere to be found. I have wanted knives a couple of times, but I've never not eaten because of a lack of knives. Potatoes are a pain, but if you bake them first you can get away with using a butter knife. Chicken can be cut with the handy pair of kitchen scissors I have that currently constitute the sharpest thing I have in the kitchen. Most vegetables can be torn (lettuce) or come pre-cut (baby carrots) and fruit can always be eaten whole.

A Microwave- Ok, I confess to missing this one more than the knives and it is on my list of things to purchase once I get a whole paycheck, but an oven and stove, though not the most convenient, do work. You just have to remember not to purchase things (like individual mac and cheese) at the store that can only be cooked in the microwave.

Bookshelves- Also on my to purchase list, but for now I am not too good to just stack my books on any available horizontal surface. My bed, my dresser, the kitchen counter, three-quarters of the couch. You know, whatever's available.

Comfort to my soul

I don't intend this blog to be anything much but a journal and a way to keep people up to date with my happenings, but I had a meal yesterday that is one of my favorites and so I am going to post the very precise recipe. This was originally made for me by my sister-in-law who is a wonderful cook. It has stood me in good stead for many years.

Are you ready? This is comfort food to me and it's very difficult to make:

Black Beans and Ham over Rice

If you happen to have garlic or an onion cook those in a little bit of olive oil. If not, hey, that's what they invented garlic and onion powder for.

Open a can of black beans, dump them in a large frying pan

Add some cubed ham

Now this is the most important part, this is the ingredient that makes the dish:

Add some Italian seasoning. Add it until when you stir it in you can still smell it (that's right, I measure by smell. As my sister-in-law says, my sense of smell is freakish. I also make meatloaf by smell, but that's another recipe for another time)

Simmer for...as long as you want. I just simmer it until the rice is done

Oh yeah, cook some rice. This is the one recipe where I am always ok with using brown rice. Cause I'm healthy like that.

Pour the black beans and ham over the rice.

Enjoy and feel the inexpressible comfort of a lovely, fast meal that will satisfy every time.

Aaaaaaahhhhhh. Life is good.

Maybe I can do this...but don't quote me on that

After a weekend spent worrying that I was going to fail and should maybe just reject Purdue before they reject me (weekends are not my best time), I had two rather awesome affirmations that I was doing ok today. Now, I will be the first to admit that both of these might come from a perception of me rather than the actual me, but I will take them anyway:

1. I went to see a professor to discuss several things and after talking over some issues and questions she told me that it was clear that I knew what I was doing. Uh…ok, I’m glad it’s “clear” to someone (I did not of course say that, though my look of blank astonishment might have given me away).

2. In class another professor was discussing some sociological experiment and turns to me and says, “Well of course you’ve heard of it, Marin.” Now, as I see it you have several options at this point:

a. Lie and pretend that of course you’ve heard of it because that’s what he expects

b. Tell him no, you have no earthly idea what he’s talking about and he could possibly be smoking something

c. Flee in panic

I’ll tell you what I did. The experiment sounded vaguely familiar to me so I might have fibbed a tiny bit by nodding more knowingly than was warranted given my actual knowledge of what he was talking about. But the real point is, why would I “of course” have heard about it? I think I hide confusion (and ignorance) well and so it often appears that I know more than I do. Or maybe he was just referring to my obvious intelligence (heh). Or maybe I should stop parsing it and take it for the compliment I think it was meant to be.

Lest you be overly impressed by his good opinion of me, earlier in the class he called me Meredith. That wasn’t the best moment of the day.

Still, you take what you can get.

Speaking of Inferiority Complexes...

So a few months before I left I went with a friend to a University of Utah gymnastics meet. It was really interesting and those ladies are incredibly talented. However, there was so much ballyhoo about how great the University of Utah was that I began to think to myself, "hmmmm, I think someone is protesting their greatness a little too much and maybe if they have to reassure themselves of their awesomeness so much, it might be because they don't in fact think they're all that."

This is not a post about the University of Utah.

This is a post about similar goings on at Purdue University. You see, on campus and even around town, every other person you see has some form of Purdue paraphernalia on their person. I'm not exaggerating, I've been watching this phenomenon for a month now, and after careful (and scientific!) counting and measuring I have determined that it is indeed every other person. My question is, why? Are you all in danger of forgetting where you go to school? Do you think the university itself will fade away and die without your t-shirt? Or worse yet, was there some sale on Purdue paraphernalia to which I was not invited?

Purdue, why are you protesting so much?

Mini Rant Re: Political Science

I'm supposed to be writing an analysis for one of my classes, so I think it's clear why I am instead writing a blog post. However, in deference to what I am supposed to be doing, I will write this post on the subject of my analysis, namely the field and discipline of political science.

You see, what I have discovered is that political scientists have a secret inferiority complex (secret in that it's not like they are printing t-shirts advertising this little gem. "I'm a political scientist, ask me why I don't think I'm as good as a biologist!") about being "scientists." It's a really big deal to them (I don't have to call myself one of them until I have an actual degree in the field) that they be seen as "scientists" who use the scientific method to figure out stuff. Scientifically. And yet, according to the book I just finished, "Discipline and History: Political Science in the United States", (page turner!) it is this very emphasis that makes political science a nearly useless field. To wit, I found the following quote in my reading:

"By hitching their star to disciplinary growth and specialization, to sophisticated methods and technologies to study political life, and by succeeding in their efforts to expand the new discipline into new graduate curricula...it could be said that their audience has been reduced to other colleagues and students."

The book goes on to say that every time political scientists have tried to impose more science on their discipline they have moved further away from being of any noticeable use to anyone (I'm paraphrasing naturally).

My point? Get it together poli sci people! Nobody listens to you because you insist on couching your findings in impossibly technical language and then wonder why your grand theories aren't being heard. One hates to say this to such educated people, but duh!

I'm just sayin.

Complaints

I have studied and worked on school for about 10 hours today. My brain is exhausted and so am I. It's been blazing hot and I only have an air conditioner in my bedroom, which means I've had to do all of my studying on my bed because it's the only comfortable place in the room to sit. So now my back hurts. My goal was to get all of my reading for my International Relations class next week finished by the end of today, but at this point that means 160 more pages of reading and it's already 9:00 so I guess that's not happening.

Truly, no one has ever been more picked on than me. :-)

Title change

Some people have complained that the title of the blog is a little too generic, so I have changed it from "Insert Title Here" (I bet you didn't realized that wasn't a default title) to "Insert Clever Title Here". There now, doesn't that sound more like me?

Favorite conversation about being a Mormon so far

Fellow Grad Student: You're from Utah? So are you Mormon?
Me: Yes!
FGS: That's awesome! So did you go on, like, a quest?
Me: I'm sorry?
FGS: You know, a quest! The thing they make you guys do for like a year after high school.
Me (Realizing she's talking about a mission): Oh! Yes, I went on a quest
FGS: That's amazing! Where did you go?
Me: I went on a quest to England

Other stuff and stuff

Clearly I am in a catching up, chatty Kathy mood, because this is my third post in a row. The problem is that I think posts should be about something specific and so I need to separate them in my mind. I may be too anal for blogging.

In keeping with a blessing my brother gave me before I left for school (Thanks D!), I have been trying to be social and not hide away in my apartment. I have been trying especially hard to participate in things at church. This is not that easy for me because as you may know, I am not a "joiner". However, I have been going to a weekly volleyball game for the sisters and young women in the stake, and I have been volunteering for things to do with music. The stake is having a musical...sharing time? in conjunction with the RS broadcast in September and like a good citizen I offered to be part of it. But then I was handed a song. No, I'm sorry, that should really be in capital letters. I was handed A SONG. The song was written in 1978 (a banner year in many other respects) and is called...wait for it...I'm a Woman (hear me roar). Ok, the parentheses are not included as that would be an entirely different song that would actually be hilarious to sing at an RS function. No, this one is just "I'm a Woman". Sample lyrics include:

I'm a woman, yes, a woman, fair of face and soft of touch...

To my husband, my companion, I'll bring tenderness and cheer

For a woman bears a softness, be she young, or pioneer

There is also something about forging the destinies of the youth with our influence. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy*. I am pretty sure I can't get through that song without laughing my head off. So I offered a song called Be Believing that my sister and I wrote earlier this year. I'm not all eager to show off my songwriting technique, it's just that I couldn't stand the thought of getting up there and singing about my fair face.

I am a teaching assistant for American Government and Politics this semester. It's a pretty good gig, and the professor is great. Before the class started he offered to let me do a lecture if I wanted to. Well of course I want to, I think it will be a great experience that will be really helpful in getting the professor's feedback. So today I told him which lecture I wanted to take based on my knowledge and "expertise" and he said that was great, but he was actually going to be out of town for the lecture before that so if I could take that one instead it would be great. Of course I said yes because that's what you do when someone who has your future funding in his hands asks, but now not only do I have to prepare a lecture on something I know less about, he won't actually be there to critique me when I do. Argh. However, Purdue has this weird (big brotherish?) thing where they can and do record any lecture so I will be able to listen to myself and even watch myself if I want to and then critique that. Yes, that's much better. Or not.


*Not a part of the lyrics, though it might actually make the song better

Things about Purdue, both good and bad

All universities are different, let's just start with that. Sometimes you can just say it's different without assigning a value, but sometimes there are definite values attached. For instance:

Buses- Purdue and the cities of Lafayette and West Lafayette have banded together to make this amazing bus system that is absolutely free to all students (I mean, I guess we all pay tuition, but you know what I mean). There is a stop about 2 minutes from my house that takes me directly to the building I need to go to. The bus drivers are friendly, the buses are clean and in a pinch I've actually seen them treat their passengers like they're in a taxicab and just stop when the person wanted to get off (though this isn't great for the punctuality of the buses). It's great and convenient and saves me time and money. Which is good because...

Parking is dreadful. They've made it as inconvenient as possible for a student to park on or anywhere near campus. I understand that they are trying to encourage busing, but come on, sometimes I just need to be there for 10 minutes and I don't really want to have to wait for the bus.

Finals- The university has yet to assign times for finals, which means no one can plan their holiday travel because none of us know when we'll actually be finished. The last week of the semester is called Dead Week and it's unclear to me whether you have classes that week or not, but what I do know is that under no circumstances are you allowed to schedule a final during Dead Week. Maybe it's called Dead Week because they will kill you if you try to schedule a final? Must look into the more draconian bylaws of Purdue...

So I've done it. I've completed my first week of my doctoral education. Only roughly 300 million weeks to go (that's obviously just a joking, outlandish estimate. It could very well be more). So, from my vast experience and wisdom, here are some general observations:

There will always be more to do and learn in this program and at some point you just have to say to yourself, "I have absorbed all I can, and in fact if I try to do more I may start rocking back and forth in a crazy manner. It is time to quit." And then you actually have to stop. I actually think the real trick will be not deciding that it's time to quit before it actually is, and I may not be so zen about the whole thing when I have ten major papers due the same day. Nevertheless, that is what I have decided for now.

When you essentially have no life because you don't know anyone in the area it is easier to complete tasks in a timely manner. However, this is already ending as I am getting to know my fellow grad students. Today I had to spend ten minutes watching some guy play a computer game because despite my replying in the negative when he asked if I liked video games, he still felt he needed to show me an awesome new rocket launcher game he had found on the internet.

I know that's only two observations, but what do you want from me? I've only been here a week.

I'm Meltiiiiing

My brain, it might be melting. That's bad news. I wonder what life will be like with a melted brain? Will I in fact be the exception that proves the rule that the unexamined life isn't worth living?

MIGHT I IN FACT BE HAPPIER?

Cross your fingers.

Orientation

This week has been an up and down sort of week. I finally put all of my clothes away yesterday, which I suppose officially declares that I am here to stay, but you'll notice it took me a week and a half to take that step. Part of the problem is that I don't feel like this is my home, and not just in the sense that it is an unfamiliar place, but I'm not really comfortable in my apartment yet. I still haven't completely gotten rid of the smoke smell, though I think I've made progress, and I just don't feel comfortable here. So it's not been great because I've been spending a lot of time at home but don't really like being here. However, I had a series of orientations this week and met my department and there are some really nice people who I think will be good friends. The orientations were on a variety of things, the most helpful being a 10 minute lecture on not "socializing" in any way with your students outside of class. Except of course it was put a lot more bluntly than "socializing". I didn't have any intention of "socializing" but am glad to know that I will be backed up by the university in that.

I actually start school tomorrow. I have to confess that I am a little nervous. Having never been in a PhD program before, and having listened to the older grad students in my department expound on the challenges of the program (I don't wish to be uncharitable but I do think there is a certain amount of glee from those who have survived their first years in scaring the crap out of the newbies), I am fairly convinced that they are going to drum me out of the program within the next week or so after they discover that I am not nearly as clever as they thought I might be. In keeping with one of the senior grad's bits of advice I have tried to get as far ahead as I can stand, which means that I have already read four books and eight articles for a class I haven't actually attended yet. That was for my political science methodologies class. It's difficult to sum up what the class is exactly (and in my defense even people who have taken it can't tell me what it's about), but I think it will be helpful, even if the professor does describe it as a sort of hazing for the program. I'm also taking a quantitative methods course where the professor claims he is going on the assumption that we have never had a statistics class before and have very little background in math. I'm ok with that. Those two classes are required my first semester and then I am also taking a Pro Sem on International Relations. The "Sem" is short for seminar, but I don't know what the Pro is. I would assume professional, but you never know. I really wish people would stop assuming that I just know what these stupid abbreviations stand for. For instance, there's a field in this program called PBI. It has something to do with American politics, but that is as much as I can find out from the context. I kept meaning to ask someone the first day but forgot and now it seems like it is far too late and now I will never know. I may even end up majoring in PBI and never know what it stands for. I just hope there isn't a test on that.

I got a very fun rug to match my random turquoise square ottomans so now i just need curtains to feel like the front room is done (for now of course). Still haven't taken any pictures, though I now know where my camera is, so that's progress.

Indiana

Well, here I am. I'm here in Indiana and I'm here, at long last, in the world of the blogger. I don't have much to say about Indiana thus far. It...exists. The people are friendly, but I can't say I've noticed the extra dose of friendliness that the Midwest is famed for. I hate my apartment and will never in a million years understand why people smoke. Actually, it's not fair to say I hate my apartment. If it smelled normal I would be pretty delighted with it. But let me just say, I think smoking is a disgusting habit and I don't understand why people would ever pick it up. I understand it's heinous to quit, but I really think if they would all think about me just a little bit more and themselves just a little bit less then we could come to a compromise that would benefit me. I mean us. I am thinking about the poor smokers as well!

Today for the first time I think I may have started to get a handle on the smell. Here's how you get rid of cigarette smoke: listen to and follow all of the advice that various family members, friends, and the internet can provide; wash down the walls, dust the carpet with baking soda, use vinegar liberally. Then go ahead and buy every deodorizer that looks like it has half a chance of working, cross your fingers and hope that one of them works. Magic!

In other news I went to my first of roughly three thousand orientation meetings today. It was for graduate student employees. I sat next to a guy, glanced at his paperwork (For those of you who know of my...tendency to be overly curious about things that don't concern me, I swear I wasn't being nosy, just glancing over) and it turns out he's from Utah. So we chatted and his wife was from Orem, they're in one of the other wards in the area and I'm sure if we had played the Mormon "do you know?" game we would have ended up discovering that we were third cousins once removed and were once in the same ward. You know, because there are actually only a thousand people in the Church. This came up yesterday in church when, after introducing myself in Sunday School, a girl ran up to me and said, "were you in the Sharon 7th ward?" and it turns out I used to visit teach her twin sister. Like I said, a thousand people tops.

And that's it for my first post. I make no guarantees of posting frequency. I don't even guarantee I'll remember the name of this blog two weeks from now. But it's a start. If I ever get around to feeling like my apartment is presentable in pictures I will take some and then start a new adventure of figuring out how to post them here. Again, no guarantees.