But That’s Where I’m At

Vision Board Event – where dozens of people go crazy with glue, magazines, and colored paper. McK, Parts, and I are making strides toward doing more creative-type projects and spending time together outside of the workplace. Not too bad to start 2024.

Now, the random: Unbeknownst to me there is specific terminology within the academia field that eludes to transitional terms. For example, whilst completing the coursework associated with a doctorate, the student is called a doctoral student. Apt. However, once the student has completed the required coursework and has begun the dissertation process, the student is now a doctoral candidate. Fancy. Also, there is a special kind of nonsense for those of us who simply can’t live without education called a Postdoc. Just as it’s spelled, it’s what a ridiculous person would do after they obtain a doctoral degree. No thank you.

Also unknown to me is the option of applying for grants and funding to further the research portion of my degree. A quick search resulted in a few Veteran-related PhD grants, as well as several scholarships. No harm in completing the applications.

Finally, no matter what others (…me) might say about the loneliness of this process, I’ve made some incredible connections, including forming relationships with others who have obtained their PhD and gone on to become professors and/or researchers. At this time, I’ve been conversing with a woman who wrote her dissertation on a subject I’m extremely interested in and am considering how to mold it into my own dissertation. She’s been kind and generous with her time, something I value greatly. More to come.

Finally, I never thought I would see the day that a few 8-10 pg assignments seemed laughable. Remind me in a few weeks how excited I always am to start writing again.

__________________

I ask you –

Any creativity-centered goals for this year?

Have you ever applied for a grant?

Tell me an absolutely ridiculous page length!

(The post But That’s Where I’m At first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Dollars & Sense

I’ve determined unless you’re an absolutely complete moron, then money can literally buy anything you want, including a doctoral degree. Maybe not a doctoral degree for an actual medical doctor but definitely one like I’m getting. Really. Because if the way some of my classmates write is any indication of their ability to form coherent sentences and be decent human beings, then money must be the reason they’ve made it this far. Sorry not sorry. Here I am stressing a dissertation I don’t even have to begin for another year and they’re writing like a sixth grader. Spoiler: we’ll probably all walk the stage at the same time which proves my suspicion that money can buy a degree.

You know what else money can buy? Pizza! And it makes me happy, too.

Money can also buy replacement body parts, especially when Spare Parts still hasn’t come through on the slightly used knees. Mine are starting to look and feel like I either make a living in the red light district or this volleyball hobby is getting the best of me. They’re so bruised I’ve been afraid to wear shorts to work lest someone question my evening habits or tell me I’m too old to play sports. Cue the daughter jokes again.

our most recent photo together

Lastly, speaking of jokes, it’s impolite to stare at someone in a public setting, then loudly proclaim, “Oh good, I found the other one!” as if twins are an unheard of phenomenon. We are not a scavenger hunt. I really don’t understand the fascination. Parts and I don’t even look that much alike! And, I know of at least one other set of twins (identical) who also work on the installation. Maybe they have better luck than Parts and I.

And by luck I mean people don’t stare like they’re a circus act. Or at least say hello first!

__________________________

I ask you –

Have you ever had a taste of humble pie?

Do you like fried green tomatoes?

Rumor has it there will be a photo shoot with mini and cows!

Do you think money can buy anything?

On a scale of 1 to you’re insane if you don’t love it, how much do you like pizza?

Please share your advice or comeback phrases for the shock & awe twin encounters!

This is My Face

It’s official. No matter what I do, I give off mom vibes. To my coworkers, Spare Parts, and everyone else I’m around.

For example, Parts tells everyone I’m her mom and they believe her. She’s the oldest twin! Even prior to this – which is how the whole story got started – a coworker I knew had met Parts and asked if she knew me, then proceeded to ask Parts if I was her mother. FFS.

we’re not related at all

Example #2: my coworker/best friend/wingwoman McK and I went to a presentation. Someone whom I knew asked me if McK was my daughter. At first, I thought they had heard the stories of Parts. Oh no, they were serious.

CMSgt Bass and McK, my other daughter (apparently)

Example #3: the same wingwoman and I went to an appointment for her. Unfortunately, McK had a bout of laryngitis so I did the speaking for her since she could only whisper. As they took her to the back, the nurses asked did she want her mother to come? McK kindly declined but I HEARD IT ALL!

Soon I’ll be accepting suggestions for plastic surgery and a Botox provider. But maybe it’s not my face. Maybe it’s my attitude, the way I take charge and speak first. If that’s the case, then I’m doomed to forever be everyone’s mom.

Seriously, though, these expensive facial products are clearly not helping. Lies!

________________

I ask you –

Have you ever been mistaken for someone’s parent?

Do you think some people just give off a certain aura?

Now taking suggestions for plastic surgery. I need your input, please!

(The post This is My Face first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Thank You for Tuning In

A great guy doth not a leader make.
Me, after espresso

Therefore, on the day of our fearless unit leader returning to his rightful throne, aka big messy desk, I thought it fitting to mark his homecoming with a post. After all, he did hire me, unbeknownst to his well-being.

Fortunately for you all this post really isn’t about him. Exhale.

It’s about all the cool things I’ve done lately, you know, with all my spare time and non-demanding job requirements. Right. Those things.

a visit to 217 Coffee St

Returned to my first sport love: volleyball! I voluntold my coworkers that we were playing and they indulged me. This is fun! Note: a well developed running base sure does make volleyball a lot easier. What doesn’t make volleyball fun? A bandaged toe from racing a General (he didn’t know we were racing but of course we were) and the oft overlooked but no less important underboob. Well, the chafing of the underboob was the problem. Anyway, if you’re still reading after the mention of underboob – said three times now – then welcome to Running on Fumes, where we (and by we I mean I) type the ridiculous things that come to mind.

maximum, for sure

Fairly sure there was a point to this post.

Oh. Right. Cool things. I did stand out in the blazing heat giving out tickets to a drawing held by Spare Parts and the team of fabulous marketing folks who make all my wildest creative dreams come true. Mostly posters and schedules because I’m not creative at all. Also, I packed up an entire event’s worth of stuff in about 6 mins flat at the mention of severe thunderstorm, lightning, and hail. Did I already state it was hotter than jalapeno cornbread? They supplied me with multiple bottles of cold water, I worked for free. Until next year.

______________________

I ask you –

What’s your favorite sport? I particularly like curling.

Is it still cool where you live or getting hot?

Tell me your thoughts on cornbread! Yuck. Not a fan.

(The post Thank You for Tuning In first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)