Boy in the Bubble

(Day 66) I write you this entry from deep within the academic bubble: the Congress of the Social Sciences and Humanities.  This is one of the largest collections of academics, experts and shut-ins the world has to offer.  People present the collected result of their research, their toils, their life's work in some cases... to be attended by a handful of people that came to see someone else anyways.  

I am, however, pleased with how my presentation went, to a modest sized audience, a large part of which were fans (read: friends) from Victoria.  The presentation that followed mine was also very interesting and well done.  What I was not impressed with however, was the seemingly increasing amount of disrespect and disregard that is being shown Congress delegates by the administration of this event.  Discussants (people who have read the papers of presenters beforehand, meant to provide useful and thoughtful critiques) have been outrageously terrible across all sessions I have seen.  My own discussant managed to ask one question (between two participants) which asked (inevitably for me to answer) to relate my topic/presentation to that of my fellow presenter (something that is a part of their job description).  I think I should be allowed to put his job on my CV (resume).  

That was my more academic critique of Congress, here is my more personal.  Taking in account the amount that was paid in order to present (a task that, considering the amount of hoops to jump through, nearly required a degree to complete) I am disappointed at the amount of swag given out.  We received a small tote bag (much like the ones that they sell at the grocery store for $0.49) filled with advertisements for University programs, a journal that is probably available online and some other random filings.  How about some blank paper?  How about a pen?  Excuse the stationary theme here, but aren't those staple items for an academic event?

The program for the event wasn't even made fully available to us!  Some associations received nice bound editions, we received a few sheets of paper stapled together that didn't even provide all the information that was needed.  On top of that, when I asked for one of these incomplete and shameful documents (not in those words of course) I was given a look of scorn and asked for identification (proof of my membership with the CSA - my membership amongst the hundred or so here).  As if they could not spare the $0.09 expense to run off another copy.  So, to you CSA, I give an emphatic disapproval.  In less than academic terms: you suck.  

the 'boiling point' song of the day: We're Not Going To Take It - Twisted Sister

p.s.  on a lighter note: aside from the rain, Vancouver has been great!  The people on the bus have been friendly, food has been great and it has been an overly enjoyable visit.  

I Joined the Social Sciences to Avoid Math

(Day 60) Firstly, I do not look forward to June, as it will become much more difficult to judge which day it is (since I started my writing). April was easy, date = day (April 1 = Day 1). May hasn't been too bad either, just add 30 to the date. June is mildly more tricky, it will take more than just the split second I have previously been alotting the task. In any event, that is my trouble to worry about.

I started my data analysis today, which was daunting to say the least. I opened up my first document only to be presented with a short paragraph from one of my sites, and the task of finding themes (for the thesis) from its content. This anxiety was soon alleviated with the nearly 60 page document that followed. Needless to say it was much easier to pick out themes from the larger document. One theme that immediately stuck out was instances where either site developers think we (the users) are mentally deficient or people do in fact ask the dumbest questions. I highly doubt the 'F' (Frequently) in the FAQ acronym in many cases.

Something else I learned today: privacy policies are totally bogus. Some sites or programs at least make you agree to the privacy policy before continuing on (not that anyone ever reads them, but it is nice that they pretend that we do). On the sites in my sample however, there is no such request. As I discovered today, I apparently accepted the terms of the policy simply by being on the site. It sort of seems like an old TV gag, where the person of authority rambles quickly on about rights and obligations, ending the 200 words/minute speech with a, "If you agree, say 'huh?'" To which the dupe inevitable replies, "Huh?" negating all of his rights and inheriting many new obligations. Interim thesis conclusion: People are dupes who ask dumb questions, for greater detail see: bad TV sitcoms. But really, who am I to call people dupes or dumb question askers, I am complaining about having to add 61 to the date. That is the type of contradiction that belongs in only one place...academe.

Another slide from the collective imagery of the GWW and the 'if corporate execs read my thesis would they care' song of the day: Don't Get the Music Worried - Tricky Woo

...And in the Dream the Hamburger Was Eating ME!!

(Day 57) Every once and awhile tasks arise that require my attention, away from my thesis...okay, this happens quite often with varying degrees of importance (Star Wars marathon: moderately high to very high importance). I will be presenting the preliminary findings of my thesis at this year's Congress of the Social Sciences and Humanities in Vancouver. Although highly related to thesis writing, this does require quite a bit of attention away from the thesis itself. A paper has to be written and a power-point slide show has to be constructed, courage to speak to other academics has to be mustered - there is lots to do.

Power points are, however, a distinct pleasure for me in the academic process. It is where words and ideas come alive in image form. They say a picture says a thousand words, but I generally use each picture to convey about 250 (that's one double spaced page). Each page of my paper (all of which is lifted out of my thesis) is given a face and character (thus giving my thesis a face also). I like the idea of my thesis having a face (see post here on my enjoyment of title pages - the textual face). It makes it nicer, friendlier, more approachable...more creepy (c'mon, a thesis with a face - that is creepy)? It would definitely make the feeling of my thesis eating me alive a lot scarier.

In any event, here is your song as well as the face of my thesis (Pandora)...

the 'that's what I would say if it had a face too' song of the day: Oh La La - The Faces

Time, It's on My Side, Yes It Is

(Day 55) You can't say that I didn't warn you. I said in the last post that I would be heading up to the cabin. There are however, two things that you may not have known. 1. When I say 'for the long weekend' it doesn't necessarily mean that. Being a grad student, I am not really obligated to even know the day of the week. I am usually lucky to know the month (is it June yet?). In fact, I didn't even leave for the 'long weekend' until Sunday, and I just got back today. Life is grand. 2. When I say 'the cabin', I mean to say that I am going off the grid: no phone, no internet, no communication with the outide world. That would be defeating. To escape time and deadlines only to be enslaved by your temporal restrictions? Nope.

From this week off the grid, I learned two things (more than that really, but only two to share). 1. When someone who is very much 'connected' technologically goes offline, trouble begins. My inbox e-overlfloweth with e-useless e-junk. My voicemail consists of a myriad of voices expressing worry and concern about my whereabouts. I was half expecting to receive junk mail advertisements for milk with my digital image on the side of the e-carton. 2. I have a whole lot more free time when I am offline. Who knew there were so many hours in a day?! This of course totally threw my internal non-calendar for a loop. I didn't even know what day to think it might not be.

Well, I now know it is Sunday, so I think I will just go ahead and take one more day off.

'Life (as a grad student) is grand' song of the day: Permenent Vacation - Aerosmith

*** And a word of congratulations to Mikey for swinging into Med school like the pirate he is. For the next rock star doctor of Canadian Medecine, the song 'Cover of the Rolling Stone' by Dr. Hook***

When It Rains, I Bore

(Day 43) So I have finished a rough draft (read: very rough draft) of my first complete chapter (Chapter 2 oddly enough). What that means is that I get a day off, which suits me quite nicely as today is the first day that it has rained in a while. When the sun takes a break, so do I...at least for as long as it works as a parallel. I imagine myself changing that parallel when I want to go to the beach or just play in the sunshine. Another reason for the break is that the next chapter to be written is likely the Methods section. This will almost certainly be the most boring section to read/write. Even methodologists think their field is boring.

Apparently I do the same things when I am on an official break as when I am unofficially procrastinating from work: clean, tidy and organize. The only difference I suppose would be the acknowledgement of the fact that I will not be working. It is much more powerful to declare that you will not be working, and then to not work, then it would be to aim to work, and then not accomplish anything. It is hard to fail when you are not trying to do anything. Unless I accidentally stumble into my thesis document and write a page, I will be successful today, and as far as failures go, that one isn't bad either.

As for the upcoming long weekend, (May 2-4: a concept foreign to born-in-BCers) it will be filled with extremes of both work and play. When I am working (and yes that will happen) it will be my data analysis, which is essentially the heart of my thesis - super intense, and slightly scary. When I am relaxing, it will be on the beautiful Sunshine Coast with E. (my fave gal) and S. (my eldest bro), soaking in the rays and swimming up a storm (a storm of lethargy and more sunshine). Hopefully extreme relaxation will help conjure up extreme productivity. Regardless, if I fail, I am still on the Sunshine Coast and that can't be bad at all.

'it's almost the long weekend in BC' song of the day: Relax Baby Be Cool: Stereo Total

I Hear She is a Big Fan of the Blog... Of Course She is, She's My Ma

(Day 41) I think grad school is a full-on assault on one's self-esteem, ego and general perception of self. We are pushed to the absolute edge of what we can handle, and that is just in the coursework. It is not all that difficult to write a good graduate paper, but to be able to do so whilst also marking a thousand terrible student papers, reading just shy of a billion pages of thick academic literature and of course writing papers for other courses as well - well that is pretty difficult. After coursework is completed, we become our own dungeon-masters, chaining ourselves to our desks, computers or too-heavy-to-carry stack of books.

How could one's ego not only survive this destructive environment, but flourish? Grad students can have some of the biggest egos globally, and feel like the smartest people alive, but how? We have awesome mothers! Our mother's are the one's who fuel our egos, as I am sure is true for people in other fields, but that isn't what this blog is about. Grad students can live under the ego-fulfilling prophecy (that someone will actually read their thesis), but in truth, there is always one person outside of ourselves, committee members and fantastic peer editors that will read it: our mothers. Even if our mothers are in different fields, they remain our biggest fans. "Hey Mom, what did you think of my quantum astro-physics, molecularly based agro-commentary on the state of the moons of Saturn?" "Well my child, it was the best physics thesis I have read...ever! You are the greatest [enter your field/discipline here] there is!"

So a big thanks to all the mothers, motherly figures, mothering personalities and moms, for perpetually fuelling all of our egos and making us feel like we are the greatest, despite the opposite being true: they are the greatest! Happy Mother's Day

'I hope you knew it was Mother's Day before you read this blog' song of the day: My Mother - The Tiny

The Name Kierkegaard Even Sounds Pretentious

(Day 39) It is inevitable that as a thesis writing grad student that I will land in cafes and pubs to do much of my reading, writing and relaxing. This is both a luxury of the 'job' and one of the things I really loathe. The cafes that I find myself in always have really corny puns for names like "On the Bean" or "In the Espresso Lane", and our grad student lounge does me proud with the uber-pretentious name: IQ Bistro. The similarities between the grad lounge and the cafes is that very characteristic of pretention. I hate overhearing people's suspiciously loud conversations about the subtle differences between Kierkegaard and Proust while they sip on their low-fat, non-whip, extra tall triple double caramel macchiato-chinos with a macadamia nut and a whisper of cinnamon.

Then of course, the ultimate joy comes with the fact that it is usually those very same pretentious characters that become employed at those cafes. So now I have some Rousseau reading, wannabe social do-gooders not only surrounding me but also serving me my drink as well. But when I get that drink, I can't help but notice the coffee cup with skillfully drawn sign that says "karma." With only a hint of irony (listening Alanis?) would a pawn in one of the largest publicized exploiters of South American farmers ask for 'karma' and actually expect money (tips) by that. Oh but don't worry, they carry two fair trade brands of coffee right over there behind the ninety six non-fair trade (read: popular) brands.

Perhaps I should start dictating my thesis aloud when I am in these places. I would probaby feel more like "one of the gang" and out of self-conscious display likely end up using more sophisticated (read: bigger) words in my thesis. At least that way I can attempt at drowning out the discussion from the baristas about how they really relate to the struggling plebeians they once saw while on vacation in the tropical south.

the 'this is what cafes are for' song of the day: Coffee and Conversation - Joni Mitchell

That's Quite the Company You Keep

(Day 37) For many years, I have (for the most part) had long hair of great volume. Being a long haired fellow, one of my worries has been that I would start losing my hair. Not a terrible worry, as I am a former head shaver, so I know that I don't have an awkward shaped head. I think the clean cut look is 'in' anyways, it would be like Nature's way of telling me I need to be cooler.

One of the leading causes of balding (aside from genetics of course) is stress (there could be other 'leading causes' considering that I made up that 'fact'). Being a grad student, constantly under the gun of looming deadlines and sky high standards, I always assumed this was the road I was headed down. I was so expecting to start pulling out tufts of hair that I didn't see the greying coming. I got (read: noticed) a grey hair yesterday! Not just grey, but almost silver, like white-hot, see it from across the room white... in my beard.

Now this is something that I could embrace I think. A white beard?! Yes, please. Put me in the same category as Santa Claus, Gandalf the Wizard, Freud, the Ayatollah, Papa Smurf, even My Supervisor! You know what the common denominator is here? Wisdom and respect. Well maybe not the Ayatollah...and nobody ever said how smart Santa was... and Papa Smurf ain't never got no respect. Okay, correction: the common denominator is the cool beard, and that is enough for me. Maybe I should work even harder, get that stress going, and land myself a beard o' wisdom/respect. I'm taking it back.

Song 'to grow a beard to' of the day: Sharp Dressed Man - ZZ Top
(Fun fact: the last name of the drummer of ZZ Top, is Beard, and he was the only one in the band without one - only a mustache! Didn't I just blow your mind?)

Like Rai-i-ain on Your Wedding Day

(Day 33) It was pointed out to me not too long ago, (and I am ashamed that it is merely my personality and not intentional) that my blog (SGWW) in fact mirrors my thesis (GWW) a lot more closely than I originally thought. Partly as a matter of tradition, partly as a matter of entertainment, I have, as you all know, taken to appending a song to the end of each blog entry (a song of the day). Each song reflects either the mood of the day or in some way encapsulates the essence of the entry. It just so happens (ohh universe...) that the act of recommending music in the new technological era is in fact what my thesis (GWW) is about. Funny how these things work out.

However, there is a stark difference between what I am writing about, and what I am doing here. First, I am not an evil corporation...and anyone that makes a comment about lack of personality is gonna get it. Second, although my music picks are in fact the same for everyone I am not offering them as recommendations, as some of them are in fact terrible songs but do serve the purpose of expressing something beyond this blog (see song of the day today). Finally, I am not making any money off of these recommendations...although I am starting to think that maybe I should be, especially with the bad songs. They can use all the publicity that they can get. And with that, I pass you on to the song of the day, but don't worry, I won't sell out. I will try to use songs that everyone can enjoy...after today.

The 'of couuuuurrrsse' song of the day: Ironic - Alanis Morrissette

The Wheels on the Bus Make the Thesis Go Round and Round

(Day 28) Today I had to register for the summer semester (that starts in 2 days). It isn't that I am dying to do it, but my bus pass won't work if I don't register. So I am now registered in the SOCI 599 Thesis course, which essentially means nothing. Well that is not true, it does mean that I have probaby the most expensive bus pass in the free world. I think it might be cheaper to withdraw from school, buy a bus, then write my thesis on my own time.

I do really enjoy reading on the bus though, it is among my favourite places to read. Perhaps it is the lulling comfort of the bus winding around the Victoria streets, or maybe the beautiful scenery of all the beaches and greenery on the way to campus, but most likely it is the rogues gallery of obnoxious, boisterous and unruly bus riding characters that force me to stare at my book so hard it nearly bursts into flames. Intense reading results in intense comprehension.

When I am reading, I try to employ different types of underlining to denote different things. If I underline something it is quotable, if it is a wavy underline, it means I have issue with that point, or if I circle it, it means it is important but I don't know what to do with it yet. Doing my reading on the bus has forced me to re-evaluate this system. Now it doesn't matter what I am thinking, if a passage is important it gets a squiggly line that goes under and through the words and often onto the other page. I suppose that makes me the unruly bus riding character...cue the rim shot, that's a cheesy chessy joke.

'because it would be easier to read/write on' song of the day: Hard Road - Sam Roberts

Stereotyping My Typing (in Stereo)

(Day 26) Today was a writing day. Not that the entire day was devoted to writing, but rather that it was a day in which I wrote. Being a writing day, it seemed only appropriate that I would deal with the second biggest obstacle to my progress, as alluded to in the last entry. To put it simply, I am a terrible typist.

One would think that given the amount of time I spend actually typing, whether that is writing papers, chatting online or even in writing this blog, that I would be a better typist. Granted, I am slightly ahead of the 'hunt-and-peck' typing style of my parents (Hi Mom!). I would loosely describe my own typing methods as 'intuitive chaos.' This includes a flurry of movement, and a roughly 80% success rate. All things considered, not terrible.

There are however some words that always elude correct construction by me on the keyboard. I discovered this in my typing skills course in high school (does that make my lack of skill sadder?). No matter the speed at which I was typing, I could never get 'population' correct. It would always turn out as 'poulation.' That ever-elusive second P. This never really bothered me past my Grade 10 assignment on 'Peruvian Population Distribution and Other Demographics' but this anti-skill has returned in the form of another word. 'Network'. It usually takes at least two tries to spell it correctly. Newtorks; netowrks; nertwoks. It is like watching a really sad game of Jumble, where the player is sooo close, but fails to see the obvious word under the pressure of the $25 000 grand prize. What's worse, is that this is a word that comes up with great frequency in my thesis. Wonderful. At least I will get my money's worth from the SpellCheck.

'for the dry spell in the lack of misspells' song of the day: Dry Spell - The Meters

Love and a Leaky Valve

(Day 23) Here I am just a little over 3 weeks into the official GWW/SGWW (see index) journey, and already I think I am behind. I have been trying but there are two main obstacles (now that the other big obstacles of school work and TA work are finished), and they are lethargy and poor typing skills. I will deal with the former today and the latter another day.

First, let it be said that I love my apartment, and I am pretty sure my apartment loves me. But, the apartment is the sort of lover that never wants me out of its sight. It accomplishes this by being soooo comfortable, I don't want to leave, and think that this is my idea. It's in my head.

The other day was just so beautiful that I had to take advantage of my south-facing balcony. I took my reading out on the deck and read for a good while. Once it started to get nippy and my toes got cold, I went indoors to read. I may have been on the couch for a maximum of 30 seconds before I was out cold for 2 hours. Although naps are glorious, I needed to get work done. This isn't even the first time this has happened. I have learned that this apartment doesn't even want me to do work - only rest, nap and sleep (although these seem to be the same, to the connoisseur, they are indeed quite unique). In any event, I need to do more work at the office. The office doesn't love me like the apartment does...well maybe it's love, maybe it's a gas leak. Time will tell, for now, I am going for a nap.

the 'I always fall asleep during this' song of the day - Nobody Has to Stay - Mirah

Who is General Error and Why is He Reading My Files?

(Day 19) Today was momentous! I am officially finished all of my marking, as well, today I wrapped up the final session in the Sociology Colloquium series I have been facilitating. Both mark moments of great happiness for me in being done, as well as two instances where it is most evident that I am in fact at the mercy of new technology...the very topic of my thesis!

As I was setting up the projector for the colloquium, I caught myself quietly whispering, "Please work, please don't crap out, please oh please, give me an image on the screen." This comes from the long and sordid history that projectors and I have. Last summer in a presentation at Congress (on the topic of new technology, of course) my power point presentation failed me. How did I overcome my disappointment, you ask? I organized a Sociology Colloquium series so that I could deliver my presentation again. The human spirit endures.

It must be the grand irony of researching/critiquing new technology, because yet again, (during the session I myself organized) the presentation power point did not work. But luckily for me (and for the projector) it worked today, and the presentations went off without a hitch. That being said, in writing about my conquering of this technology, I was tripped up by both the computer and the internet and now find myself posting a day late. They'll get you around every corner.

the 'oh computers, when will you stop screwing me' song of the day: Ain't No Easy Way - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Beware the Ides of April

(Day 16) One of the many perks of being a grad student, and there are many (avoiding the real world; being able to 'work' in your underwear; still socially acceptable to play video games) is that we can take books out from the library for ridiculous amounts of time. As an undergrad I was limited to a mere two weeks, always running back to the library to avoid late fees (haha, no I'm only kidding, I was never in the library in undergrad). But now I get my books out for the entire term (and I actually take books out too. Look at me!). It is awesome, I have a veritable library in my room courtesy of UVic's loan policy. I get this feeling of importance whenever they say that my books won't be due for...another four months. Yes!

That feeling of being smart and important however quickly fades in the last days of April when I realize that I am going to have to renew all of my books. Entrapment, I say! They knew I wouldn't be able to return all of the books they enticed me to take out.

Now, there is a way to renew the books online, so that I don't have to take all fifty or so back to the library...on the bus. This is where the important/intelligent part fades. I don't know how. It is complicated and confusing. I have to sheepishly return to the site of my crime and ask for the super nice librarians (which almost makes it worse) to help me follow a few links, click a few boxes then press 'renew.' How embarassing.

The 'maybe I should change my reading material' song of the day: Picture Book - The Kinks

Grad School = Babysitting + the Olympics,

(Day 14) I had to proctor an exam for my first year sociology class on Friday, which is essentially a 3 hour babysitting session that is both frustrating and infuriating. All I really get to do is answer questions/define words (dumb ones mostly - actually got 'what does decline mean? Does that mean up or down?) and walk them to the bathroom. I am super glad that I am beyond the time of having to write exams, but I sort of feel like this thesis is just one monstrous exam, but instead of 3 hours to write it, i get 3 months (I actually get more, but it woudn't have fit the alliterative number theme there). On the bright side, i get more bathroom breaks without the escort.

With all that said, there is the super scary final 'exam' at the end of the thesis under the guise of an oral defence. I've been to a few of these, and they work exactly the opposite way, they ask you the definitions and the stupid questions (stupid only because they are ridiculously difficult). Also, I've never seen someone excuse themselves from the table, so I am not even sure if you are allowed to get up for a bathroom break. Mental and physical anguish - maybe the thesis writing experience should be in the Vancouver Olympics as a biathalon or something. But ask any other grad student, and there is a lot more pain going into this than just that, so it would be more of a triskaidekathalon (that's 13 events, significant in itself). But this is months away, so I will shelf the idea and settle for a pat on the back for using the word* (possibly coining the word) triskaidekathalon.

'run the triskaidekathalon to this' song of the day: Thirteen - Wilco

Neon Obsolescence

(Day 10) In doing a thesis on technological matters, the currentness of my sources is key. Sure, there is something to be said for those whose theories transcend their spatial/temporal context in order to speak to larger issues, but this is simply not always the case. I didn't mean to laugh, as you should never laugh at someone's academic endeavours (that's a warning to all of you), but it just seemed ridiculous (read: disappointing) to be reading about how Call Waiting and Call Display are going to change the face of communications technology in light of all that has happened since. I'm not even saying that the ideas were wrong or invalid, it was just...severely outdated (severely = 12 years = small child). Who would have thought that 12 years could make such a difference considering the importance still placed on the classical texts from hundreds of years ago. Apparently the rate of obsolescence has greatly increased from 100 years to about 40 seconds.

I think reading about telephone or early internet technologies (which is where I am reading currently) is sort of like seeing someone on the street in Vaurnet, or an equally epitomizing 80's brand. You can respect that (for whatever reason) it was cool/relevant at some point, you just can't imagine yourself ever using/wearing it ever again lest you face ridicule by your peers/other academics. That is correct, I just compared the content of the stack of books on my desk to neon clothing that shouldn't 'fit' as tight as it did. Masterful.

the 'do you have some neon to go along with that' song of the day - West End Girls - The Pet Shop Boys

Worst Epiphany Ever

(Day 8) So today I was reading some of the texts that I have pulled as a part of my sample. The key source I was reading today was a patent for the technology required for a website to recommend a song to a listener. Despite the coolness of a website that recommends music to you, the mathematics behind it is decidedly uncool. Not only is it decidedly uncool, it is an uncoolness that is monumentally boring to read about too. This is disasterous...it isn't really, I am being melodramatic, but do you want to read it?

In any event, the reason why I bring up this uncoolness, which is probably a few degrees more uncool for you as you likely have no reason to care about how the sites operate anyways, is the thought process it started. If the years of hard work by the creators of Pandora bores me to the degree that I whine about it here, what will my thesis do (under the very large assumption that it will even be read)? Will my thesis cause some poor grad student researching those that research music recommendation sites (Ha! There is a boring/uncool study) to be bored out of his/her mind? And Sociology is particularly bad for making up new words, so I know that this is going to cause trouble too. They will be bored and confused.

Perhaps this should be a turning point for me, an epiphany if you will - my thesis should be interesting! It makes so much sense, it should be something I already know. But I guess that is why I came to grad school...to learn.

the 'worst epiphany ever' song of the day: Seeing Things for the First Time - Black Crowes

Microsoft 1, Reed 0

(Day 6) Breakthrough! I accomplished actual writing...ish. Well, you see, this is how it is. As a lifelong student I have learned to take some shortcuts, both in life and in writing. For example in life, Chinese food leftovers can be refried and rolled into burritos...rice, chicken...voila. In writing, my summary and introduction from 'Thesis Proposal' becomes summary and introduction of 'Thesis'. Just change all the 'will investigate' to 'investigated' and again, voila.

This however leads me to my point...there is one. MS Autoformat is the bain of my existence. For those unfamiliar, Autoformat is Microsoft's attempt at 'making life easier' by making decisions for me. They do this by changing things to how they think they "should" look. Numbered lists "should" be indented, fractions "should" be raised, etc etc. However, more often that not, what Microsoft thinks and what Mattreed thinks is different. Not only different, but opposite. It is always the same difference that we battle over though. Microsoft wants to change what I have typed and I don't want them to. Apparently just leaving things as they are does not compute.

Cutting and pasting presents a unique challenge as you have the formats from two different documents battling out for who can be the style Matt does not know how to change. I don't understand how Microsoft decides who wins these format battles, all I know is that I am certainly the one losing. Although it pains me to say it, if Microsoft can't improve their Autoformat, maybe Matt "should" switch to a Mac.

The 'just as long as they aren't "auto" ' song of the day: the Format - First Single

Where in the World is C. Santiago (2008)

(Day 4) I am reading a book recommended by Committee Member 3, a part of the list of sources he suggested. It is proving to be a superbly helpful book, but it took me 3 months to find it, because all the info I had was, "ummm, it is in a D. Lyon book, I forget the title."

This goes along with his other suggestions, like the one where he can't recall the author, the one that was in a journal of which he doesn't know the title, and of course the supremely enjoyable (read: vague) clues to an ambiguous possibility of a source: "There was something written on such and such, no idea when or where...or by whom. But have a look around." Awesome. I'll get on that. In any event, 3 months later, I found it.

Am I upset about this apparent lack of concrete help? No. Why? When I do manage to track down one of these "mystery sources", I get a feeling of accomplishment, as if I solved a crime (which it should be). It's truly satisfying. That, and of course, all of these mystery sources have ended up being key resources in my thesis formulations. Wouldn't you know it, doctors sometimes know what they are talking about, even if they are a touch forgetful.*

*This is not necessarily true. Doctors are often not forgetful at all, and probably more often, don't know what they are talking about anyways. If only those that were forgetful could just forget what they don't know anyways. Follow?

the 'I hate to use the same band, but I really feel like a gum-shoe' song of the day: Can't You Figure It Out? - Sloan

Thesis, in name only

(Day 2) Immediately I know what you are thinking. Why no post on Day 1, potentially the most important day? Was it because I was writing so diligently all day? Clearly not. But fear not, progress was made. There is still marking to be done, and other odds and ends, but I wanted to make a mark in my thesis writing endeavour yesterday. So I opened a Word document and labelled it 'Thesis' (it was my creativity that got me here, you know).

I stared at my new document for a long time. I decided that I should do the title page first. What's more important than the eye catching, interest inducing title page? Nothing, that's what. Well, maybe the thesis itself, or the ideas, but that is up for debate. So the title page has my name, the department, the title, etc. For those curious, the title is: "Opening Pandora's Box: Music Recommendation Sites, Ideology and the Individual." Catchy, right? So my grand word total is at 35. Pages: 1. I'm on my way.

The 'ever appropriate for the Page 1 blues' song of the day: I'm On My Way - Cat Stevens

as a side note, if by the end of this process I had a beard like Cat Stevens, I wouldn't be upset. Not upset at all.