Happy equinox!
Sep. 22nd, 2004 12:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bronwynrhHi guys. Welcome to Fall 2004. It's looking and feeling beautiful outside, and I resent the pee-toe-tees out of being stuck indoors. The boy may be dealing with stupid people and heavy objects all day, and I don't envy him that, but I DO envy his being outdoors.
Did you know that dissertations don't write themselves? I'm shocked by this fact every time I open my dissertation in word and find it precisely how I left it last time. Unfinished, that is. Damn it.
It's close, though, and getting closer every day. I only wish my analytical mind were more analytical. As my own advisor has told me, I'm great - fantastic, even - at designing the experiments, describing the experiments, analysing and describing the results. What I suck at (not his word, mine) is pulling it all together into a dad-blamed model. You know, synthesis. Big picture stuff.
Wherever I am stuck in my dissertation, it's at places that require that sort of analysis.
I see myself getting little to no help in that regard, so I have to just type whatever I come up with and hope to hit somewhere close to That Makes Sense. Not 'that makes sense to ME', no. We're looking for That Makes Sense.
It's a subtle, but apparently very important, distinction.
So I'll get dressed, get the mail, and get started on my afternoon of mental gymnastics.
To all the folks in Bton: Mom is coming to visit me and the boy, and she and I will make an overnight trip to Bton to take care of business and a little matter of a last haircut at Hi-Tek. Salon loyalty dies hard. In any case, I'll let you know when we're coming, so maybe we can meet up for lunch or ice cream or a movie or whatever may please us at the time. That is, if any of you remember who I am and give a damn :)
Did you know that dissertations don't write themselves? I'm shocked by this fact every time I open my dissertation in word and find it precisely how I left it last time. Unfinished, that is. Damn it.
It's close, though, and getting closer every day. I only wish my analytical mind were more analytical. As my own advisor has told me, I'm great - fantastic, even - at designing the experiments, describing the experiments, analysing and describing the results. What I suck at (not his word, mine) is pulling it all together into a dad-blamed model. You know, synthesis. Big picture stuff.
Wherever I am stuck in my dissertation, it's at places that require that sort of analysis.
I see myself getting little to no help in that regard, so I have to just type whatever I come up with and hope to hit somewhere close to That Makes Sense. Not 'that makes sense to ME', no. We're looking for That Makes Sense.
It's a subtle, but apparently very important, distinction.
So I'll get dressed, get the mail, and get started on my afternoon of mental gymnastics.
To all the folks in Bton: Mom is coming to visit me and the boy, and she and I will make an overnight trip to Bton to take care of business and a little matter of a last haircut at Hi-Tek. Salon loyalty dies hard. In any case, I'll let you know when we're coming, so maybe we can meet up for lunch or ice cream or a movie or whatever may please us at the time. That is, if any of you remember who I am and give a damn :)
