We'll Meet Again

Some of you may remember when, several months ago, I wondered about the future of this blog and what I would do when ABDmom was no more.

Well, that day is here.

I'm surprised by how sad I feel. I am obviously ecstatic to no longer be ABD in my "real" life. However, in the process of gaining a PhD, I've also in a sense lost my blogging identity--that of ABDmom. That is one reason why writing this post is extremely bittersweet: I'm saying goodbye to an identity that has become dear to me and to a blog that has chronicled an extremely important and intense time of my life.

Of course, writing this entry is also bittersweet because my enthusiasm for my new job has been considerably dampened. At one time, I was so excited to introduce my new blog to all of you, partly because of what it represented: my change in identity from that of graduate student to assistant professor. While I'm no longer wondering if I'll have to abandon the new blog due to leaving the academy, I'm still feeling bruised by the whole affair.

But, it's not all gloom and doom. I know that whether I blog as "ABDmom" or not, my blogging voice will remain much the same. I plan to make no major changes in the content of my blog, since the general circumstances of my life remain the same (being a mom and being an academic). Of course, you will see some more specific changes in content, since my life is changing: making the transition from graduate student to assistant professor, living in a new town, thinking about having another baby, etc. I'll still pour my heart out in completely inappropriate posts, continuing my service as the train wreck of the academic blogosphere. Yep, many of my blog posts are like those wrecks on the highway: you know you shouldn't look, but you can't help but be fascinated by the mess. :)

Seriously, though, I know by blogging voice is "warts and all." I like it that way. Sometimes I feel stupid for blogging my immature reactions to receiving feedback or my latest stupid fight with BH. Sometimes I think I've put way too much of myself out there by disclosing some of my biggest fears and deepest shames. But then I think, fuck it. In my academic life, I attempt to break down boundaries between the so-called "ivory tower" and "real world." I don't believe in writing author-vacated prose in my academic work, and I'm sure as hell not going to do it on a blog. I'm going to contest those boundaries. I'm not going to play the game that so many of us play (for understandable reasons), especially during grad school--that we have it all together, that we are terribly self-confident, that things are always "great!". I don't, I'm not, and they're not, as this blog has shown.

While much of my blogging has served to help me work through my own issues, I also hope that reading about my fears and insecurities has been helpful to some of you--especially those of you who are in the early stages of graduate work or who are in the throes of the dissertation. As this blog evolved, one of my goals was to de-mystify the dissertation process for others, to give an example of what worked and what didn't in my life and to show that it is possible to write a dissertation, teach, get a job, and still have a pretty good family life. I remember being told by faculty and fellow students there was "no way" anyone could write a dissertation without sending your child to daycare for 40 hours a week plus. That's not a path I was willing to take. I finished the dissertation with half that amount of childcare. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it, given my goals. I wanted the other ABD moms out there to know they weren't the only ones who felt guilty sometimes, or who felt like their brains had slid out of their birth canals along with their babies. I hope the craziness of my life has been reassuring to some of you.

I want to thank those of you who read this blog and especially those of you who contributed comments. I have made some dear friends via blogging, and I look forward to developing more relationships. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I don't know if I would have ever finished the dissertation without the supportive community I found here. Thank you for helping me recover my enjoyment of writing and for supporting me while I tried to figure things out.

We'll meet again at http://professingmama.blogspot.com/, where I'll continue to try to make sense of my life as a mother and as an academic. "Save the drama for your mama" has never seemed so appropriate.

Goodbye, ABDmom. I'll miss you.

It's All Over But the Shoutin'

Well, as Grandma would say if she were here, it's all over but the shoutin'. I am MyRealName, PhD.

The defense went very well--fantastically so, if I may be so bold. Once I got over my initial nerves and relaxed, I very much enjoyed the conversations we had. Some of the questions were difficult, but they weren't terribly so; I knew my limits and felt confident to say that I didn't know or wasn't sure. The Advisor thought I was asked some very tough questions and said I handled it all very, very well, so that made me feel good. I guess it didn't seem that bad to me because none of the questions were framed in an adversarial way and I had been thinking about most of these questions throughout the entire process, anyway. I knew where I had gotten tripped up, so it wasn't a shock when some of their questions honed in on those areas.

It did drag on, though. They questioned me for all but 10 minutes of the two hours. They sent me out in the hall, and I used the restroom and visited with one of the secretaries. Then they called me back in and told me "Congratulations!" Of course, I burst into tears. AMP immediately produced a tissue and gave me a big hug, followed by Dr Feelgood and The Advisor. They stressed to me how well I had done, and the outside professor told me she very much enjoyed being part of this process. She said she enjoyed reading my diss and that I have "a lovely writing style--I enjoyed reading your work tremendously." It made me feel really good to know that people beyond my field were impressed by my work. And of course, it's always nice to be complimented!

One of the nicest things The Advisor said to me was that she and Dr Feelgood felt like I was a different person from the student who took her qualifying exams. She said they were both very much impressed by how much I've grown in my scholarship and that they were happy to see my confidence levels going up. She also said AMP told them I had shown tremendous growth since that awful encounter with A last fall.

We then talked about the revisions I need to do. Thankfully, I don't have much to do. There were a couple places where the committee wanted me to be careful about generalizing, and they wanted to be more explicit about stating my findings in the conclusion. I kind of combined the findings with the implications, and they want me to separate those out and directly state what I found. They would also like me to talk about some of the complications in my research in the conclusion as well. Still, though, what they're talking about are paragraphs--one for the findings, one for the complications. Not bad at all. Of course, I have to go back and catch some proofreading things, too. So, all in all, I'm getting off pretty easy in terms of revisions. Revisions are the norm in my program (I don't know anybody who didn't have to revise), and The Advisor tends to be pretty particular. She made her last doctoral student re-write her conclusion (yes, this is the same student who went on to win the dissertation award in my field). I don't have to do anything like that, so I'm feeling pretty good.

BH and I are going out for dinner tonight to celebrate, then this weekend we're going to Hometown to celebrate Pistola's birthday with our families. Lots to be happy for this weekend.

Finally, an update on a not so happy part of my life: the situation at my new job--or as my friend Dorcasina so accurately put it, Sucky New U. At least I have some promising news to report. I talked to Mentor Prof, who was very upset upon learning of the situation. He advised me to do what I'd been thinking of as the "nuclear option"--threaten that I wouldn't move to Flat City and involve the dean. I took his advice, adding some language he suggested to my reply and copying the dean and Mentor Prof. Mentor Prof told me that he would be writing to the relevant parties, as well as knocking on their doors and meeting them face to face. He also said he would get other faculty involved, to show they would not stand for one of their junior members being treated in this way.

As you might imagine, my reply caused quite a stir. Within an hour of my pressing the send button, Mentor Prof called to tell me change was afoot. Late yesterday I received the type of reply I should have received in the first place, with assurances that I would not be stuck in a cubicle and that the department was actively working on solutions. I should be hearing what those solutions are soon, but I am confident that, at worst, I'll be sharing an office with another junior faculty member.

So, things are looking up. I have supportive colleagues who are fighting the good fight for me. That means so much to me. I have for all intents and purposes earned the PhD. Right now, life is pretty good.

PS: Thanks for all of the comments and emails over the past few days. With all of the phone calls and emails flying between here and Flat City, not to mention taking care of Pistola and getting ready for the defense, I've been overwhelmed. I needed to take a break from blogging, emailing, and chatting for a few days to get my head together. But your concern and support was very much appreciated.

Drowning

Thank you for all of your support the last few days. The comments you've left, the supportive chats, and the encouraging emails have meant a great deal to me. I must especially thank Dean Dad and Ph.D. me for helping me craft my reply to the latest contact. I haven't sent that out yet; I plan on doing so after I speak to Mentor Prof.

I've deleted my last two posts. I just can't take seeing them here anymore. As it is, I can't stop thinking about the mess that is my professional life. I don't need big, flashing reminders of it every time I come to my own blog. I don't know how much I'll be blogging in the days to come. This may be my sign-off for a while. We'll see how I feel.

This morning I'm thinking about M, my old therapist, and what she said to me early in our work together: depression is anger turned inwards. I didn't feel anger during my horrible year (plus) of depression. That depression raged over the year that Grandma died; the same year my good friend--only 30 years old--died of breast cancer; the same year BH's 19 year old cousin, who was like a little brother to us, died of leukemia; the same year I first applied to graduate school and was rejected. I never felt the burning anger the way I do know, because I felt like things were absolutely hopeless. I couldn't save the people I loved. I had failed spectacularly in the one area of my life (school) where I had always succeeded. I knew that raging against the way things were would not change them. So I turned all of my anger inwards, mistreating my body (I gained ten pounds alone in the month after my grandma died) and sliding deeper and deeper into depression. The rage I felt at the loss of the people I loved and at my failure was stuffed deep down inside of me.

I've said on this blog before that clinical depression feels like drowning; that is precisely how I felt during that major episode. I feel myself beginning to slide under those awful waters. I'm fighting it hard; that is the reason why I am so angry right now, angrier than I ever been in my life. But I'm beginning to struggle to hold my head above water. I don't think anything I say or do is going to improve this situation. I really believed my first email would change things, but the reply I received demonstrated my status in this department very clearly. It's beyond all reason. I was the first hire. I had my pick of the department's positions--that is how much they seemed to want me at the time. But ever since then, I have been continually shit on. They don't care about me, and they've made it clear that I'm among the lowest of the low in the department, barely one step up from the part-time adjuncts. So I can go there, be treated like shit, and turn my anger against myself, since it's clear it won't change anything there. Or I can stay in BSUland or move back to Hometown--in the process having to find another place to live and another job, not to mention dealing with my mother's guilt for "throwing away your father's money" on the house in Flat City. Yes, I talked to her about the job mess, unfortunately. She called when I was crying and couldn't pull it together to cover things up. She immediately started in on me how I just had to go there and suffer through the next however many years, how we'll be financially ruined if I don't, I'll be wasting dad's money, and on and on.

When I feel so helpless and hopeless, it's damn near impossible to not just slide under the water and let the currents take me in whatever direction they choose.

Let's Make a Deal

We made another counter-offer today; we went back up to the listing price, but added up to 2000 in closing costs. That means we'll either break even or be out a small amount of money (under 1000).

The realtor just called: the other person is accepting the offer and signing the paperwork.

I'm still nervous that the whole thing could fall through, but ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we have sold the house.

Call Me

I cannot believe this: Last night I was looking into setting up phone service for the new house, and I discovered that Caller ID isn't available in Flat City!

No Caller ID? What the hell kind of po-dunk town is this?! I don't know what I'm going to do. I've had Caller ID--and loved it--for five years. It's so nice when telemarketers call when I'm writing; I know I can just ignore the phone. Yes, I'm on the do not call list, but we still get tons of calls anyway. It is going to be a major adjustment to go without Caller ID.

At least I'll still have Tivo. If I couldn't get that service in Flat City, I think I'd have to break my contract with MSU.

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby

Highly personal question for the internets: did any of you experience a post-dissertation rise in your libido?

I ask because that is what's happening here. Poor BH. I think I'm wearing him out.

House Selling Update

The other realtor didn't call our guy until almost three hours past the deadline. They have come up to our counter-offer, but they want $2000 in closing costs. If we agree to those terms, we will lose between $1000-2000 on the sale of this house.

I don't know if I'm ready to go there. Plus, these people have been so difficult so far that I fear what they will come back with all kinds of improvements they want made after the inspection. So then we would be down even more money.

The only way I could see agreeing to this is if we stipulate they are buying the property as is; we will do nothing post-inspection. I'm not sure if even that condition is enough to make me feel okay.

I just have a bad feeling about this buyer. I sense money is an issue, so I question if the loan is together. And given the general rude behavior we've been subjected to so far, I fear more is to come. My gut tells me they are going to continue to be difficult, especially after the inspection. There is nothing majorly wrong with our house. The roof and the furnace, though old, are fine. But I have a feeling they're going to say they want those things replaced because they're old. And there is no frickin' way that's going to happen. We have purchased a warranty for the house so that they will be covered if anything goes wrong in the first year. That is enough.

I don't know what to do, blogosphere. Opinions? Advice?

A Thousand Miles

I have a bunch of different blog posts in my head right now, and I feel like my brain is going about a thousand miles a minute. So this is going to be kind of a "newsy" post (if newsy is a word), and I'll do some more focused posts later--if not today, over the weekend.

Okay, house news first: the realtor came over last night and we signed the counter-offer. We still haven't heard if the other people put together another offer (our realtor expected they would) or if they decided to walk away from the house. Honestly, I don't care if they did. I am still so ticked about that lowball offer. I was thinking more about it last night when it hit me that we would have to make double mortgage payments for NINE MONTHS to pay the difference between our asking price and their offer. And that doesn't even include the money we would have to pay the realtor. Since we know we're already locked into double payments for July and August, it becomes even more of a head-scratcher. Why would we willingly lose so much when the house has only been on the market two months, especially when the average around here is 3.5 months? And especially so when a house a few blocks away from us--on one of the busiest roads in town--a house with an identical layout but that is in not as good of condition as ours, just sold for $500 less than our current asking price? It would be an incredibly stupid move on our part.

Enough bitching about the house. Moving on.

I finally found out who the outside person on my committee will be. I think I got a good draw; the professor is in a department somewhat related to mine--we're in the same college of BSU. So, they shouldn't bring the types of biases against my field that have made some of my friends have unpleasant experiences. AMP should know this person, actually, so I'll be interested to talk to him and get his opinion (I meet with him Monday).

Pistola and I delivered a copy of the diss to the professor's department this morning, so things are all set. Now I need to read over the diss and write my opening statement. I'm starting to get nervous. I haven't been too nervous this past week, because I've been so busy and could easily avoid the diss. But now I have to start thinking about it again, and I'm feeling really nervous.

Ooh. Realtor's calling. Hang on.

Well, no news to report. He hasn't heard anything from them yet. He saw the other realtor this morning, who said she was still trying to get in touch with her client, but that was it. He hasn't been able to get in touch with the other realtor again. He'll call back when he hears something.

In other diss related news, I ordered my regalia today. I wish I could post a picture of it here, because I think it's beautiful. But BSU uses custom regalia so it would be too identifying, for now. You might get a quick peek on graduation day. :)

I wanted to wait until after the defense to order it. I am very superstitious and fear I'm jinxing things by ordering beforehand. Since I'm buying the regalia, though, there's a 4-6 week wait. I had to order now to make sure I'd get it before graduation, and it will still be cutting it close.

Pistola was a handful while we were in the store; it took forever, since it's summer and not many people were working in the bookstore. Patience is not among a (nearly) three year old's greatest qualities. But overall, I guess she did okay. Afterwards we grabbed some lunch nearby campus, and she was very good then (hungry, too--probably why she was restless before).

Things are really feeling official. The diss is in the hands of all readers, the regalia has been ordered, and this time next week, I will (hopefully!) be ABDmom no more.

Lowballed

We've gotten a bid on the house, and as you can surmise from the title of this post, we're not happy about it.

They lowballed us. Their offer is barely 91% of our asking price, which already is below market (and appraised) value; standard practice is to offer at least 95% of the asking price. This offer is $5,000 less than what we paid for this house four years ago. If we accepted that offer, we would be down a serious amount of cash by the time we paid the realtors.

We are nowhere near that desperate. We countered with $900 less than our asking price. That is our final offer.

It ticks me off. Our realtor is extremely ticked, too, especially since he works with the other realtor. As our realtor put it, "How much more do they want? It's a great house in wonderful condition, you've thrown in all the appliances, and you've come down 10K in two months." I understand negotiation and that everybody wants to get the best deal, but there's something to be said for being fair, too. When we bid on this house, our realtor told us how much the previous owner had paid for the house, and we offered him that much (he had only lived in the house two years). I feel like that is just common courtesy. This offer didn't even give us that.

We'll see how they respond. They have until 3pm tomorrow. We also have a showing Saturday afternoon, and our realtor is going to call them and see if they want to move up the showing. So if this offer doesn't work out, there is still hope.

I Say A Little Prayer For You

I had a great day with Pistola today and had started composing in my head an entry all about it. Then I received a call from our realtor: we have a showing tomorrow morning.

Not only is it a showing; it's a second showing. Their realtor works in the same office as our realtor, and it sounds like they are planning on writing an offer for our house tomorrow.

Please keep your fingers crossed, say a prayer, light a candle, whatever--I'll take any and all positive energy--so that this offer will happen and that we'll get this house sold.

Will blog more about this (and my day with Pistola) tomorrow; right now, must get back to cleaning the house and praying that this offer comes through.

Pride

As happened in cities all over America this past weekend, there was a big gay pride parade in BSUland.

I doubt that people unfamiliar with BSUland would think of it as a progressive place; hell, I know plenty of people in BSUland who think it's conservative. But for someone like me, who grew up in Extreme Right Wing City, with a brother who contributed to Oliver North's defense fund (yep, that would be Asshole Brother), this place is heaven.

Anyway, BSUland is a pretty accepting place. Our gay pride parade had enough participants to fill all but the biggest college football stadiums in the country. I heard there were a few "protesters" (read hate filled bigots) there, but only a handful--and they were drowned out by the motorcyclists who kept circling back and revving up their Harleys to drown out their comments. The daily newspaper had positive, even celebratory, articles about the parade, as opposed to the "we're going to hell in a handbasket" articles that would have run in Hometown's paper (and Hometown is actually a bit bigger than BSUland--so it's not a big city-small city divide in this case). A weekly paper in town did a special issue for pride week, lovingly asking what makes this town "so gay."

Editorial note: I know some of my readers are from BSUland or are familiar with the town. If anything about my description of the town or my references to the local papers has confirmed BSUland's identity, please don't reveal it in comments or to anyone else (though you can email me if you want to discuss). Thanks!

These facts are one of the reasons why I have loved living in BSUland so much and why I'll be sad to move. I love living in a place where the lesbian moms at Pistola's story time are No Big Deal not only to me, but also to everyone else at storytime (I'm sure there are some for whom it is a big deal, but I guess peer pressure keeps their mouths shut). I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't feel like I have to un-do the cultural messages Pistola gets in BSUland. She's learned in our house that there are lots of different kinds of family, and she sees that in practice when we're around town. I don't have to explain homophobia to her. It makes parenting a lot easier when the acceptance you're trying to teach at home is supported--at least on the surface. Public policy here is a different story, but also one that doesn't impact my three year old at this point in the ways that the social norms do.

I'm nervous about what I'll find in Flat City. Flat City is definitely more conservative than BSUland, though not in the manner of Hometown. Flat City is smaller than BSUland, and that is where the difference plays out, I think. It's far more homogeneous than BSUland and just has the feel of a small town. While I knew going into all of this what I wasn't going to find the "gayness" of BSUland in Flat City, I was hoping I might be able to find some spaces where there would be more acceptance. I'm not having much luck so far.

I'm really seeing the differences in researching churches. We haven't gone to church here much. We've always meant to, but we'd go a few times to different places and then slack off. I think much of that had to do with the fact that we knew we'd be moving on and didn't want to put down roots.

But we want Pistola to go to church. We want her to have some religious background, and church is one place where some of the things we value are supported. It's kind of like calling in reinforcements, if you will, against the culture of excess and corruption in this country, a culture that bothers us tremendously.

Here in BSUland, it would be very easy for us to find the type of church we'd like to go to: one that is not sexist or homophobic; one that is committed to social justice; one that uses the Bible as a living text (as opposed to literal, word for word understandings--of course even in those "literal" churches, only some verses are taken literally--the turn the other cheek thing, not so much). There are many churches in this vein that we can pick from here.

That is definitely not the case in Flat City. Through the internet research I've done, I've only been able to find two churches which might be possibilities. It's not like I've been looking in the wrong places: I'm not like I'm expecting the Southern Baptists to suddenly be down with gays, okay? I've been looking at the so-called "mainline" denominations (United Methodist, Lutherans, Episcopalians, Presbyterians) that are known for being more accepting and, of the churches in BSUland, definitely are accepting.

What I've found is that in Flat City, the churches all seem to belong to the conservative wing of their denominations. The web sites' articulations of their beliefs are fundamentalist in nature. For example, I was baptized as an infant in a Methodist church. I attended said church throughout childhood. Never once did the church do "altar calls" or revivals, stress the need to "get saved," or that sort of thing. In contrast, the Methodist churches in Flat City place a heavy emphasis on being born again, have revivals, etc. That's not the type of church I'm looking for, but that is almost all I'm finding in Flat City, across denominations where I wouldn't expect it.

I have found two possibilities that need more investigation once we're in town. One is a church affiliated with the same denomination as my alma mater, Granola College. This is one of the peace churches, though again, there are conservative and liberal branches within this denomination. All but one of the churches in Flat City belong to the conservative wing. One belongs to the more liberal wing--the same branch of the denomination that is affiliated with Granola, a branch that is very much concerned with social justice. This particular church is also listed with Sojourners, another good sign. We'll have to go and see what we think of it, but right now this looks like a strong possibility.

The other church we're going to explore is a Unitarian-Universalist church. Again, I'm drawn to this church because of its focus on social justice and its acceptance. It seems like the type of church where you're not expected to check your brain at the door--they appeal to intellect and spirituality. That is very appealing. It looks like it's about the only church in town with a sizeable gay membership, which reinforces the point about social justice and acceptance. In many ways, this seems like it could be a good fit.

But it also makes me a little uneasy. I think of myself as a Christian (even though fundy types certainly would say I'm not--but that is their problem, not mine). I do want Pistola to grow up in the Christian tradition. And from what I understand of UU churches, they're not necessarily Christian. While may UU members are Christians, others are not. Some don't believe in God at all. Some are secular humanists.

I appreciate other religious traditions, and my religious beliefs have certainly been influenced by them. But when I think about how I identify, it's as a Christian. That is the tradition I am most comfortable raising Pistola in. I don't know if I can step outside of that, and I feel like I would be doing so if we went the UU route. While, for example, I certainly have strains of secular humanist thought in my religious philosophy, I am definitely not a secular humanist. I believe in God. I do think some things can only be taken on faith. I don't think "objective truth" exists. While ultimately she will make her own decisions, I hope that Pistola will believe in God. I hope she will believe Jesus was divine and was more than a great prophet. I hope she will find a place for faith in her life. That is why I'm not fully comfortable with going the UU route.

So much depends on the individual churches, though. We'll have to go to services and see what these churches are like. We may be pleased or disappointed by what we find. Or maybe we'll find out about some other churches that we haven't discovered yet.

At any rate, I hope we can find a community in Flat City that re-affirms the values we're trying to instill in Pistola. I feel like we have that in BSUland. I'm worried about finding it again.