So, things are more or less better now, except for this explosion of ass zits I got from three days of stress, drinking, and wearing synthetic fibers. Since I am thong-addicted, of course my poor ass was totally unprotected from the ubiquitous Spandex that appears in every pair of fancy modern trousers. My honey-baked ham probably looks like one of those gnarly non-slip bathmats from the 1970’s. I don’t care…I’m back to cotton pantses now, and I will be cleared up in a few days.
I don’t have too much to say about the PhD interviews, except what I spewed off in my audioblog the other night. I played it back before I posted it to see if I was intelligible, and I realized? that I was walking and stressed out? so all my sentences? Ended as questions. I can only hope I sounded that articulate? and intelligent? and angry? During my interviews.
It was the stuff I expected: why do you want to get a PhD in information science? What are some projects you�d like to work on for your dissertation? What is information science? There was this awful three-parter question that I had to take notes on to answer cohesively. It went pretty well…I even got the committee to laugh a few times. One of my fellow student-spies told me she walked by the interview room while another one was going on, and they had left the door open. She said it was extremely solemn in there and that the committee chair’s eyes were all glazed over, so at least I was a breath of fresh air.
I hope personality and charisma counts for something. My stiffy fellow applicants had all these skills and accomplishments under their belts, but man, I can sure work a room.
They are having the second round of PhD interviews for the other half of the applicants, mostly international students, at the end of this month, and then they are sending out letters posthaste. Stay tuned!
Every person I know that ends every sentence with a question? Is from Canada?
Per-roof positive that I have been in the Pacific NW for too long. I am now this ugly mix of West Coast stoner mall-speak, Canada, and when I get really drunk my Midwest Fargo garbage comes back.
Although, someone from Minnesnowda told me that I sound British the other day. ???
i grew up in this area, and people from the midwest and so. cal. love to tell me I sound canadian and english? except, i don’t say “eh” and usually avoid ending my sentences in questions?
i found your website through defective yeti, and you kick ass s.j. but, you must know that already?
I get the British thing too. I don’t understand. I’ve been to England. I don’t talk like them, Guvnah.
someone accused me of doing the sentence ending with a question thing…It’s driven me crazy ever since–I can’t tell if I do it or not. But fuck it. Can’t hear the thing you posted but I’m sure it’s no big deal.
It’s great to make them laugh. That’s a good sign.
i hope you get it. after the phD – what will you be able to do? – expertly hack into secret government research projects???
i’m australian, but live in england for the last 7 odd (and i mean reaaally odd) years. i do that sentence up at the end thing – but i’ve created a theory about it that doesn’t make me look like a wanker.
i believe it anyway.
K
I’m almost always tuned anyhow, but thanks for the heads up.
Good luck with your ass zits eh.
personality and charisma is EVERYTHING.
so thou shalt do well.
exactly! fuck the ass-kissers — you’ve got something they prolly don’t: a personality.
I am SO ROOTING FOR YOU.
i wish i could do something about the noggin zits i get when i shave too frequently, but i think wearing cotton panties on my head might be worse than the heartbreak of blemishes.