Cohort Study

I don't know if you knew that tonight was the series finale of How I Met Your Mother. I knew it. So did Liz. And Alene. And Julia. And Ilene. Yet instead of watching it live, these friends (and more!) chose to watch me give a practice talk on my dissertation proposal. Then spent over an hour coaching me and testing me. Then at the end of it all, they complimented me and thanked them for having them over. 

This is how kind and generous my cohort it is. It is humbling and scary and annoying. Whenever they succeed, I get incredibly proud of them. Then I think, "oh crap, they've set the bar that much higher again, now I have to be just as nice and just as smart or I'll look like a failure."  Good thing I'm used to all kinds of failure. 

Conformity

Peer pressure can make all of us do stupid things, like impulsively buying 2 pints of Ben & Jerry ice cream on a rainy afternoon because we had to try the new flavors with the fudgey cores (verdict: hazelnut fudge, let's promise never to part ways).  Yes, Nancy, Heeyoung, and I each had to buy our own.  And even though each pint was $3.50 (more expensive than Jon had gotten at Safeway), once we saw the sign for "2 for $7," we decided that we all had to get 2 pints.  We just had to.  

On Thursday night, though, I was in desperate need of peer pressure.  There was a guest speaker in town and Advisor Who took us to dinner.  You all know how I love free food, especially as this was free food at fancy restaurant with Liz next to me.  And Who telling outrageous stories.  (The speaker's stories of cryptography and his son of many tongues, weren't too shabby either.)  It was all pretty good, actually, except that part where the waitress came to take orders for dessert and so I ordered, then no one else did.  And so yes, I was that kid, that ate the most free food Who had to offer.  And who everyone had to wait for.  I'm never ordering first again.

Liz (to me): Maybe Who will get dessert and you won't be alone.

Who (to waitress): Could I get an espresso?  But could you make it look like a dessert so she won't feel left out?

Moi: [mortified.  mortified.  mortified.]

Gradual Student

"Graduate student" is such a deceptive job title because I am so far from graduating.  Yesterday, I went to the bookstore to pick up index cards to make for studying. Like I've done countless times. I had the realization then that it was probably something most of my friends can't relate to anymore. Can you still remember back to the last time you made flash cards to study?  Yet for me, it was yesterday. Using the exact same trick I'd learned in middle school.

(This is how I feel about studying. Though I know I shouldn't whine because a. I haven't studied that hard this far and b. it's my 3rd to last exam ever!)

Significant Others

Today was Liz's Fun Day, and what a fun day it was.  There was a rope course (which brought back bad memories of Project Adventure- I was a much better sport in my younger days), there was Taboo, and there were equally generous servings of snack taking and smack talking.  It's no wonder that I love Liz.  Those are all of my favorite things (just kidding, I hate ropes, but today's ropes were great).  I just wish Liz portrayed me better to her friends.  

(after hearing a description of the day ahead from our guide)

Moi: I don't know if I want to be mentally and physically challenged.

Liz: But think of all the fun things you can tell Al that you did today!

Moi (to Liz's non-school friends): I should clarify.  Al is not my boyfriend-- he is my academic advisor. He will not hear about what I did today.

Kali: I don't know.  You guys were talking about scheduling orals with Al and I got very confused.

For future reference, Pretzels, "Orals" = comprehensive (departmental or school-wide) exam.  I clearly need more men in my life.

Beef and Turf

In academia, so much of getting through the program depends on our mentors- formal and informal- that we (well, Liz and I) can get a little possessive and petty over them.  The mentor may or may not be our favorite, but we better be on the mentor's favorite list.  This could be a difficult feat, however, when your mentor is Advisor Who and has scores of mentees all over the medical institution.

(a little after Liz told me about a journalist-turned-medical-student-wunderkind who Who often praises and who I'd never heard of until today, and immediately after I suggested we "destroy" said student)

Liz: You are taking this way worse than I thought you would.

A Pack of Crows

Is mass murder a hobby?  The question came up during a particularly divisive round of Scattergories Categories this past weekend, one that revealed the worst in just about every team.  Lisa and I are firmly in the 'yes' camp.  Some teams found it only palatable to give us the point on murder, but not mass.  Others, like Tiff and Michael, were more lenient.  "A hobby is anything you do for fun that's not your job."  Exactly.  (They may have been just protecting their behinds, their "two-timing" double points were potentially under threat depending on the ruling).  

In the end, Tuna, the great conscience, swayed enough nays for us to lose the points.  It cost us both the round and the game in a particularly tight race.  Which is a sad one to close out a night that began so promising, with Lisa and I in early dominations.  If one had to pinpoint where it all went downhill, it was probably when we got the category "Things that are above us" and decided to shoot for the moon with a long list of dead people.  The jury would only give us one.  Not even Martin Luther King Jr. could sway their stone cold hearts. "He's not above us because he's dead, but because he's morally superior," I argued between fits of hysterics, but all Priscilla would do was stare, shake her head, and say "One dead person."  

While I'm Sleeping

On sharing bunk beds as adults...

Moi (top bunk): Just so you know, I have a tendency to shake and hop up and down in my sleep. 

Lisa (bottom bunk): Just so you know, I have a tendency to suffocate other people in my sleep. 

Touché.