Something Beautiful

Last weekend, I left Hogwarts and the books behind, grabbed a rented car, and headed across a state or two to see my best friend from grad school, Piper Ph.D. Piper warned me "there's not much to do here." And in fact, after a little walk around the county seat where she has worked and lived for the last decade, we ended up spending the evening by going out to dinner, then watching videos at her house, and trying to coax her new shelter cat out from behind the dryer.

When you are in a small town and the universe provides you with pie that looks to be homemade, who are you to refuse?

In other words, it was just like grad school: with a real friend, you don't necessarily have to "do" anything to have a blast.

But... the next day, she said, "I want to take you to Area Nature Place." And so, after a hearty diner breakfast, we went to Area Nature Place. Now, I had witnessed a lot of the natural beauty of Piper's adopted state along the drive. It is jaw-droppingly gorgeous in the fall, and I had somehow stumbled upon the perfect weekend. But Area Nature Place was beyond beautiful:

 

Yeah, I got home after a total of 11 hours of driving and was exhausted. And yeah, I woke up yesterday morning feeling behind on the research. But even so: this was an objectively good weekend in all ways.

Saying Yes to Adventure Time

Remember when I said something a while back in my mid-career crisis about how one of the ways we set ourselves up for crisis is by spending 10+ years ignoring what we love in favor of The Job? And how one way to start feeling better, post-tenure, was to reconnect with all that stuff?

Yeah, well, apparently I talk a good line, but am really bad on follow-through. Part of this is that, as I've aged, I tend to like more and more to spend time alone, just recovering my resources. I get easily overwhelmed by too much activity. I can do a four-day conference of nonstop people everywhere (Hello: Kalamazoo?) or go to a party if such is required. But then I shut myself away for a while.

But the other part is that I'm still convincing myself that spending an! entire! day! doing nothing but recreation is somehow going to put me horribly behind on what I need to do. That, given the choice between Something Fun and work, I should choose work.

Case in point: Historiann is in town for a bit. Or rather, not too far away. I invited her & the family down for an afternoon of fun. She countered with "Let's go on a day-long adventure to [fun place I've never been but have always meant to go]!"

My first reaction was to immediately decline. Because that's a whole day. And I should be grading. Or revising my Kalamazoo paper. Or whatever.

And then I remembered that I used to like fun.

So, to sum up: I'm going on an adventure tomorrow, with Historiann! All day! To a place I've always wanted to see but have told myself that I just don't have time, and maybe next month. And honestly, I have this feeling that all will be well. Better than well, even: Fun. Which is not something you're supposed to feel guilty about on the weekend.

But, because I am who I am, I'll be doubling down on the work today.  Baby steps, after all.

The Grand Experiment

I'm unplugging.

No, not from the blog (though it might seem that way most of the time lately). What I'm doing -- brace yourself -- is disconnecting my home internet.

The spur for this decision was financial, as my home internet bill recently rocketed up to sixty-three dollars a month. That's just the internet. I knew that if I called the local monopoly and tried to cancel, they'd lower my rates. But then the more I started thinking about it, the more I wondered what my life would be like without internet at home.

Here's the thing: Having home internet allows me to do things like look up stuff immediately, download and upload student papers, order library books, maintain my course website, answer e-mails from my students and other assorted university folk -- all without having to go into the office. I can do it any day of the week, any time, day or night. That's a good thing.

Except when it's not, right? Being available 24/7 is a decidedly mixed blessing.

And then there's all the stuff that's just a drain: too much time on the web, watching TV shows I don't care about, watching videos of nothing important, checking Facebook gods only know how many times a day. Yes, I tried the thing where you install limits on the biggest time-suck sites. Except that I now just go in and dismantle these things. I have no self-control. And I figure I spent 15 hours a week, at least, doing things that don't matter, and that I can't remember 15 minutes later.

In short, for me, home internet provides marginal convenience at considerable expense, in many senses of the word. Hence, the grand experiment in unplugging. Yes, I'll still have internet at the office (I'm there four days a week), not to mention at various coffee shops that I frequent a couple times a week, as well as via my phone. It's not like I'll be out of touch. But what I won't be able to do is come home from work, turn on the computer, and piss away hours every evening. I'm interested to see what happens. What will my brain do without the constant distraction? What could I do with 15 more hours a week?

I'll be sure to use some of that extra time to keep you updated. From a coffee shop, that is.

Not literature. Not even close.

When I was packing for my trip to Italy, I knew I'd want some books for my spare time. I picked a novel by Philip K. Dick, because I like me some speculative fiction and he was one of the masters. I also got a copy of Carlo Levi's Christ Stopped at Eboli: It's a memoir of his year in exile to the Basilicata region during the Mussolini years, and since that was right next door to where I would be spending my first week or so, I figured that it might be atmospheric, and a good opportunity to read one of the classics of Italian literature.

But whenever I start to make a certain amount of progress with a new language, I find it's useful to start reading light fiction -- usually historical fiction -- in the target language. [1] Even if I can't understand every word, or even every sentence, I start to catch the rhythms of the languages, and a handful of idiomatic phrases. And because it's hard to get it at the beginning, I always go for a book I've already read a couple of times in English, so I have the context. That way, if I get into a linguistically difficult passage, I can tell myself, "Oh, this is the part where they go to the market and meet the priest guy for the first time" or something similar. And so, a few days ago, I sought out an Italian version of the same book that I had previously read to help me through the late-beginner/early-intermediate stage of German and Spanish.

What is this compelling work of literature, you might ask, that you return to again, and again?

Uhmmm... it's... ummm... ::cough:: Pillars of the Earth.

I'm sorry: I didn't catch that?

Pillars of the Earth.

 What was that?

Pillars of the Earth! By Ken Follett! Okay?

I know: it's not great literature. Or any literature at all. But here are some of its advantages:

(1) It's super-absorbing narrative, if not a particularly subtle one.

(2) The vocabulary is not too difficult, and as a medievalist, some of the weirder stuff may actually be useful to me someday.

(3) Historically... I've encountered worse. Same goes for the prose. (I'm looking at you, Idalfonso Falconés).

The fact is, I have a long history with this book: I read it for the first time the summer before I graduated from college... and I realized that there was a whole set of questions about medieval history that I had yet to answer. In other words, this melodramatic doorstop of a book bears 50% of the responsibility for my decision to apply to grad school. [2]

So, I do keep returning to it. Which is why this week finds me on page 26 of the 950-page I pilastri della terra. Ed ancora mi piace.


[1] Something interesting that I've observed: Europeans are wild for historical fiction. If you go into a European bookstore (open until past midnight! awesome!), you'll find that most have an entire section for historical fiction. I can't speak to the quality, but I can tell you that people here simply devour it.

[2] The other 50% is down to a bad breakup. But I've told that story elsewhere before.

In an effort to do my part to help rescue the European economy...

...I bought this shoe, plus one more to go with it.

Also, a stripey shirt.

And lunch.

And then, I rested.

Sheltering in Place; or: Come along for the ride on the world's most boring spring break!

As I noted in my previous post, I managed to screw up my first vacation-vacation in years. I'm not going to dwell on that. Instead, I'm going to focus on what I am going to use this unexpected unclaimed week to do:

• Finish the final (penultimate?) revision of an essay for a collected volume, one week overdue
• Write a book review, one weekend overdue
• Grade a stack of midterms
• Grade a stack of proposals
• Go to the office and do some prep for students on a paper project
• Go through the e-mails
• Get back on the regular yoga schedule
• Do a couple of social things, long delayed
• Take some pictures
• Get started on the damn conference paper
  

Sounds almost as much fun as strolling the beach in Rio, doesn't it? Okay, not so much. But it's basically getting myself back on track for the two goals ("prepare the foundation" and "health") that I've got so far this year, and that March has allowed to slip away from me. And you know what? Just for the hell of it, I'll blog one of them every day this week, too. How 'bout that? You all get to come along with me on the world's most boring spring break! Whoo-hoo!

Yes, that's hard work, too; or, the Sunday Style section is a barrel of neverending fish.

The Sunday Style section of the New York Times is the eye-rolling gift that keeps on giving. Today, it's a story about downsized or disaffected white-collar professionals who dropped out to start their own service or labor or artisan businesses, only to discover that this, too, was hard, demanding work. Or, as the article's author puts it, "Many are surprised to find the hours and work grueling."

::headdesk::

I think that many of us, ten years or so into one career, have fantasized at least once (and sometimes once a week) about greener pastures where we could pursue a passion without having to bring our work home with us. Just last year, I was thinking about walking away from academia entirely, moving somewhere closer to friends and family, and trying to support myself through writing popular nonfiction.* But there also seems to be an unrealistic component to the fantasies in the article: that somewhere out there, there is a job that provides a decent amount of cash, unlimited personal fulfillment, and lots of free time. Believe me, I've had those same fantasies about the job I currently have, from time to time, and the disjunction between fantasy and reality is what brought me to the breaking point last year. In fact, some of the quotes in the article, with only a few minor tweaks, could easily be written by someone with academic fantasies:

• "This was supposed to be her Plan B: her chance to indulge a passion, lead a healthier life and downshift professionally — at least by a gear. Instead, Ms. Economou finds herself in overdrive."
• "He daydreamed of an unfettered life at his kiln, creating Bollywood-inspired teapots and butter dishes. [...] Now, instead of spending his free time absorbed in visions of clay, he spends as much as 70 percent of his day on administration."
• "She had envisioned a life of 'workouts, getting lots of sleep and blogging every day about health and fitness.' Instead, her classes start as early as 6 a.m. and she feels wiped out by day’s end, which can be 14 hours later."
• "A few years ago, she moved to Paris to apprentice with a master chocolatier. Visions of decadent bonbons swirled in her head. Instead, she felt like a modern-day Lucy in the candy factory, hunched over in a chocolate lab packing chocolates and scrubbing pots. If she wasn’t doing that, she was sweeping floors, wrapping gifts, answering telephones or shipping orders."

Of course, the article also points out the important positive side: that sense of personal fulfillment is there. And that's true of most academic jobs, too. When I was going through my crisis last year, fellow bloggers and friends Historiann and Squadratomagico advised me (gently) to let go of the fantasy and remember that it's a job. I do love what I do. I just don't love it all the time. I'm coming to it a bit later than I probably should have, but I'm really working now on appreciating the good or even great things about my job, accepting the not-so-great, keeping an eye on the truly intolerable,** and making space to grow the rest of my life.*** And I'm slooowly coming to realize that expecting to love every aspect of even the thing you like to do best is more than a little unrealistic. There's a reason, after all, for the phrase "dream job."

And I think that last bit is what left the sourest taste in my mouth (next to the condescending idea that people who work in non-professional jobs really don't have to work as hard****). Because the title of the NYT piece? Yep: "Maybe it's time for plan C."

::sigh::


*At least I hoped that it would be popular.

**If a job -- if anything in your life -- is making you truly miserable over the long term, then I say it's time to let it go.

***This process of acceptance and boundary-setting is a work in progress, of course.

****This is a common fallacy, and I think it can be boiled down to the laughable belief that pay and effort are always commensurate. Scratch the surface of that idea, and you quickly find the assumption -- and I guess now we're getting at what was really the sand in my sandwich when I read the article -- that people with little to no money are that way because they don't work as hard as their socioeconomic betters.

Random Bullets of Welcome Home

• One of my major purchases in Exotic Research City was a set of out-of-print reference books that cost approximately $140, plus another $100 to ship home. They arrived, safe and sound.
• My friends here in the department have been wonderful, eager to see me again and take me out for various meals. I'm sure the novelty of me being home will wear off soon, but it's kind of fun, and makes me feel "home."
• Family is healthy, and sister who was temporarily unemployed has a job again. It's not the job she wants, but it'll do for now.
• I seem to have contracted a throat infection just before I got on the plane. Four years ago, I wouldn't have gone to the doctor for a sore throat. But after the serious illness while in Fellowship City, I'm taking no chances, and have an appointment for today. [UPDATE: went, she took a throat culture, saw nothing alarming, but damn my throat feels raw.]
  
• Between hurting to swallow and jet lag, I've woken up at 4 a.m. both days since I've been home. That makes for a combined total of 16 hours of sleep in the last three nights. I think I'm overdue for a full night.
• Final result of 11 weeks of wonderful food, no bike, and quitting smoking, the final verdict is a gain of 4 pounds. Not bad, I think. But I'm still not putting my jeans in the dryer anytime soon.
• I have yet to write my Kalamazoo paper.
  

Just so's y'all know

Hey, I don't want to step on my post of last night, which was number two in a (probably) three-part series of life in the archives. And I am really enjoying reading everyone's comments on both posts, telling about their own experiences. But I just wanted to break in for a moment to post that Fabulous (ex-)neighbor is arriving today for a weekend visit. She's popping in from *her* Exotic Research City to tour around with me. I really am feeling like I've gotten a bit lax about the archives, especially since I blew them off to spend yesterday at a semi-exclusive viewing at a archaeological lab where a team was meticulously analyzing the temporarily disinterred body of a high medieval monarch of my passing acquaintance. But some things - a dead monarch, a live friend -- are worth taking it easy for a few days.

Part 3 on Monday. Have a good weekend, y'all!

Can't blog; playing tourist.

That is all.

Two Days

illustration: a place where I did my best impersonation
of a person who isn't a complete stress case.

Two (2): apparently the maximum number of work-days I can take off from the archives without feeling guilty. On this, my friend's last visit day, I sent her off to explore a local attraction with instructions to meet up after lunch, so I could get some archive time.

Nevertheless, I did have a good time. But true relaxation seems to be beyond me.

Another Photo

Today, I spent 2 hours at Famous Landmark with my friend and my camera.

And yet, my favorite photo for today turned out to be this one:

What I did with my Sunday

1) Hung out and played tourist with a friend who I haven't seen for years
2) Ate excellent food
3) Took pictures**


I liked it so well that I think I'll get up and do it again tomorrow.

**Aided in large part by the loan of friend D.'s 50mm lens, which does some excellent stuff, like above. And now I have another something to spend several hundred dollars on.

Rain, and a Few Days of Rest

So, It's Friday night in Exotic Research City. Where am I?

In the archives, of course.

Then again, sitting at a table in a modern room in a renovated gothic bishop's palace next to a window looking out on the cathedral with a medieval manuscript open on the table and the rain coming down outside -- well, that's not such a bad thing, really.

This situation is typical: as mentioned in an earlier post, I tend to do short trips, so I tend not to get to see Exotic Research City much at all. And trust me, it's one of those places that people ooh! and ah! over.

But here's the deal: This time, I'm here for 3 months, and three different individuals have already made plans to visit. The first -- not an academic, but a photographer friend -- is showing up tomorrow night, for four days. I've spent the last couple of days practicing telling myself that it's really, really okay to take a few days off. Really, it is.

So: We'll see how that turns out, shall we?

Something I Just Remembered about Myself

I love having a good, fluffy book -- either absorbing fiction** or popular history not in my field*** -- to read in bed for half an hour. I'd gotten away from this over the last god-knows-how-many years, when I had first netflix, then hulu to distract me. And I honestly believed that the last thing I wanted to do at the end of the day was read another book.

But you know what? I was wrong.


**Read: nothing that will "improve" me. Booker prize winners and "important new voices in literature" can stay away from my bedside table, thank you.

***Current Example: The Professor and the Madman. Linguistic geekery! Murder and mayhem! No footnotes, and no reason I should care!

Zipping By

The days, that is.

I leave for my research trip in three weeks or so. And although I haven't been keeping up my "three things" sidebar widget (as noted in the previous post, I have no home internet for the time being), my "to do" list is impressive, and intimidating. I had totally forgotten about a graduate exam, and a few other rather big projects. I think I'm going to stick everything in the sidebar for a while.

I'm looking forward to having several months in the archives, and even more time off. I'm actually planning two vacation-y things for the time I'm back: a post-K'zoo road trip to a neighboring state, and three glorious weeks in Puddletown, to celebrate both my brother's wedding and another decade where I haven't died. But somehow, I need to get my shit together before I go.

By the way, it was great to finally get a chance to meet two of you at AHA. And welcome to the new readers who have joined in since the Daly post. I promise that I'm usually more interesting than this. Not always. But usually.


**Photo note: I think my camera is overcompensating for the halogen streetlights: all my night shots are turning out orange.

One more day.

Yesterday (Monday) was just about the perfect day for the solitary professor: I woke up to the sound of rain (rare), rolled over, and went back to sleep for another hour, knowing it was a non-teaching day. When I finally struggled out of bed, I pulled on my comfiest, "I'm not going out of the house" clothes, put on a pot of coffee, and curled up with a book. Because not only did I not have to go to work; I was also caught up on my grading and had finished all my boomerang projects. I invited my neighbor over for tea. I finished a book. I sent off a few e-mails. I stayed inside while it rained outside. Lovely.

And today.

Today the rain has stopped, and I need to teach at 9:30. It's currently 8:15, and I'm still in my comfy clothes. But soon. I will get ready, bundle up, and get on the bike. There will be grading to collect. But you know, I don't mind. Because I planned my furloughs so this will be my last teaching day before finals. That's right: I've given myself Wednesday through Friday before finals off.

Two more classes. But I can already see the light of break (and subsequent sabbatical) up ahead in the distance.

It´s local! It´scholarly! It´s fun! (or: a good way to spend a Sunday)

I´ve been coming to Exotic Research City for a little over ten years now. I think this is my sixth trip. I´ve seen the major tourist sites, been to a few of the dozens of museums large (giant art museum) and small (the museum of shoes, about half the size of my 1 BR apartment). I´ve gone on long rambles in the old medieval city.

But for some reason, I´ve never made it to the book market.

This is a city that is absolutely chock full of bookstores. None of them (so far) seem to be of the Borders/B&N variety -- almost all specialize in something or other. And they´re great. But every Sunday morning, one of the giant city markets is given over to booksellers, new and used, who set up in stalls for about six hours. I kept hearing about it, and it kept getting put on the "I ought to do that someday" list. Well, apparently today´s the day, because last week I discovered (in the medieval institute library) an out-of-print reference work that happens to be owned by a used bookseller who, though he is 20 miles to the south, comes in with a selection every week. So I´m gonna check it out. It´s heavy & expensive, and I may only be able to get the one volume I really need, rather than the three I want, but I´ll just have to see.

Taking Pictures (a post without pictures)

So, one of the things I do when not digging through old documents is: I take pictures. I have, so far, had one person close to me who had non-complementary things to say about my aesthetic, but most people like what I do, as do I. It helps to keep me calm and creative, and it´s nice to do something where the end product doesn´t take months or years.

In fact, one frequent commenter here told me that she was expecting to see lots of pictures from my trip. So yesterday, computer restored, I headed out in the early evening to capture bits and pieces of Exotic Research City with my camera. Got some pretty good ones, too. Unfortunately, it´s going to be a while before they get posted, because my pictures are all in my laptop (Did I mention that it´s fully functioning? I guess I probably did), and my internet access is limited to public terminals.

But this is just to let those of you who like the pictures that show up from time to time know that illustrated posts will be forthcoming as soon as I possibly can manage it. And -- not for nothing -- that I´m actually managing to carve out a little time for fun while I´m here.

Other things

No post today. Just a picture, to remind me that I used to be able to leave the apartment and walk around.