Alternate realities: new game

On my academic grrl discussion thread a few days ago, somebody asked, “What would you want to do if you weren’t an academic?”  This is a tough one for me, since the possibility of having to find another job if the tenure stuff doesn’t work out is still looming, and the prospect of searching for another job and moving away from a place I otherwise really like is not very appealing.  And my existing experience and skill set mostly prepares me for, well, academia.  Some kind of teaching or writing, although right now the writing part is what I hate the most.  My most serious alternative job plan in college was becoming a librarian.  Wow, I am so broad-ranging.

But if we want to go into the realm of total fantasy, if-I-could-do-it-all-over-again,

1. I was somewhat burning with regret while listening to an NPR story yesterday about the booming job market for geologists.  As in, kids with bachelor’s degrees getting offers of $80k with signing bonuses, etc.  When I’m feeling really pissy about my relatively meager salary (let’s just say, if I stayed in my current job, got tenure and promoted to full professor, I might be making $80k by the time I retire, but it’ll be worth a lot less then).  And in college, I took all my science credits in geology and loved it and did really well in it.  I even briefly toyed with the idea of switching majors, but by that point, it would have meant at least another year added on to my graduation (although on the other side of 7 years of grad school, that seems relatively minor!), mostly because I weaseled out of physics and chemistry in high school and thus entered college woefully unprepared for even intro courses in those fields.  Plus they sounded boring.  But geology itself was fascinating.
2. But really, lately I’ve been really wishing I could do something more tangible, something that results in stuff you can look at and touch and kick with your foot and say “ow.”  I’m the household handy person, and really quite good at figuring out minor repairs and carpentry and mechanical stuff, and if I had any training beyond my dad occasionally showing me stuff I might be really good at it.  I’m actually pretty good with all the spatial relations and logic and stuff, and might have made a decent architect–well, maybe more of a structural engineer since I’m not particularly creative and can’t draw worth beans.  But I’m good with the analytic part, with figuring out how stuff goes together and even get a little obsessive about doing things really efficiently.  I’m kind of fascinated by green building and think that would be really cool to do.  And would also pay more than my current field.
3. I’ve also long fantasized about becoming a National Park Ranger.  Probably because I read too many Nevada Barr mysteries, but still, that would be really cool.  Especially the historical/interpretive kind of stuff.  Like teaching, but with hiking and no grading.  Now that would be a way to guarantee making way less money than I ever could as an academic. 
4. And, you know, being a CSI would be pretty cool.  If it was actually as interesting as it is on TV.  Which I know it isn’t.

Oh, well, back to grading papers…

What’s your fantasy career?

Here comes the sun…

It has been a long cold lonely winter–well, metaphorically, anyway–probably the longest if not the deepest slump I’ve been through in a long long time.  For the past few months I’ve been kidding myself that being moderately functional, after the pit of despond that was the months before that, meant being okay.  Wondering if I’d just been dreaming that I’d ever felt any better than just moderately functional.

And last night I woke up, thinking back over the past week or so, and the weeks and months to come, and realized: hey, it’s me.  I’m back. 

I feel normal.  Hopeful.  Like maybe I can handle whatever comes my way.

Not sure exactly why it’s happening now–the external facts of my life are largely unchanged from what they were when I felt like hell.  Pharmaceuticals are unchanged from what they’ve been for the past few months of bare functionality.  But it’s like I’m looking at it all through a different filter. 

Admittedly, it has been a good week–I’ve been on Spring Break from teaching, so spending lots of quality time with my Little Sunshine, who’s also on Spring Break,

and working during my 3 hours per day of babysitting time on a new project that is currently much more engaging than the old, still unfinished, and still beastly Beast.  And, okay, I did get a tiny nibble at the Beast from a publisher–still far from being a real thing, but even a teensy bit of affirmation helps.  I’ve felt like my teaching is going better this semester, but then again my students from last semester seemed to think everything was hunky dory, according to their evaluations, when I was convinced these were the suckiest classes ever and I the worst professor.  Again, it seems like it’s less what’s happening out there than my view of it.

Maybe it’s the coming of spring, although spring has really been here for a while and winters are never really particularly cold or grim here at all.  And I must admit that historically–though not consistently–the worst of my depressions have almost always started in the fall and lifted in the spring, even though I’ve always lived in pretty sunny climates.  Anyway, now I can sleep with the windows open, and the wildflowers are running riot in my front yard.   

Even the prospect of yanking all that stuff out between the time the flowers die and the time my homeowner’s association gets medieval on my ass (3-4 days, if I’m really lucky)seems like something to look forward to.

Wow.  Looking forward.

Even my little corner of the blogosphere seems to be blooming with a bit more activity of late.  And playing games.  And more games.  Guess it’s time to join them again.

Hope springs.

Pollyanna bounces back.

I guess there really is always something to be glad about.  I’d forgotten.

Partying like it’s 1979; or, I hear it’s raining cats and dogs in Idaho

Last night, a rare date night with Mr. Sunshine, planned by me in honor of our anniversary, to see a revival of Rock ‘n Roll High School, complete with a Ramones cover band and a very eclectic crowd ranging from teen punks to middle-aged nrrds like us.  Good stuff. 

Of course, in 1979, I was actually in elementary school and my eclectic musical tastes included Kenny Rogers and the Sugarhill Gang, but I had never even heard of the Ramones.  But hey (or, rather, gabba gabba hey), a grrl can dream, can’t she?

If you have not seen this movie, it is camp-tabulous, complete with dominatrix-y principal, nerdy teacher who discovers his inner rocker, the most pimped-out van you have ever seen, unbelievably hilarious 1979 hair and fashions (particularly those flaunted by the star, Riff Randall–can you say satin warm-up pants?), and a giant mouse whose mom wears an apron that says “I Hate Mouse Keeping,” and a nrrd grrl who saves the day by blowing up the school.  And if that is not enough for you, it’s just jampacked with Ramones songs and concert scenes.  How can you go wrong with this combo?

Well, actually, there was one problem, which was that the projectionist was totally screwing up the masking so that everyone’s heads were cut off.  Fortunately, Polly has spent the last decade and a half moonlighting as the Projection Bitch–informing a shocking number of clueless theater employees about bad focus, incorrect masking, bizarre sound problems, and occasionally even skipped reels.  This time, the theater manager was actually standing in the back of the theater, looking at the screen saying, “Is there a problem?”  Um, yeah, dude.  Even in campy ’70s movies, people are supposed to have heads.

But it was semi-corrected and we were able to see the bad ’70s hairstyles in all their glory.

Hey ho let’s go!