Tag: daily life

The Physicist and I had an interesting conversation today about leaving Facebook.  At one time,  such a course of action would’ve been unthinkable, but now it’s looking better and better.

I don’t remember exactly when I joined Facebook, but it was no later than the winter of 2005/6.  At that time, it was exciting and new and I marveled at being able to see what my friends were doing.  Every time I added a new friend, I got a little thrill.  I posted frequent status updates detaining the mundane details of my existence, largely because I could.

But, like many things, Facebook lost a lot of its luster over time.  As I got more and more friends, my NewsFeed became engulfed in a tidal wave of minutiae, from FarmVille updates to statuses posted while under the influence.  It was TMI every day.

Still, I clung to the idea that Facebook was useful because it helped me keep in touch with old friends.  On reflection, I’ve come to question whether that’s actually the case.  The mere fact of being someone’s friend on Facebook does not constitute ‘keeping in touch’ with them.  It’s one of the paradoxes of modern life that, although we know more and more facts about our friends, we end up knowing less and less of them.  I suppose most people see no reason to take the time to write a personal letter or email when they can convey their information coldly and clinically through a status update or a comment on a Wall.  It may be more efficient, but it lacks soul.

I’ve also been unnerved by Facebook’s endemic privacy problems.  Lately, they seem to be bound and determined to make you share your personal life with strangers.  I know it’s possible to go in and opt-out of a lot of this stuff, but it’s kind of galling that you have to do that in the first place.  Facebook used to feel like an intimate little club; now it’s as public as Union Station.  That makes it harder to connect with people on a meaningful level because you have so many more people looking over your shoulder.  True, you can go through and set your filters so that only certain people can see certain things, but, in my experience, that ends up being more of a hassle than its worth.

My mother is one of the few people I know who doesn’t have a Facebook account. She’s always said that she has no desire to bombard others with the details of her life, nor is she interested in being bombarded by others.  The more I think about it, the more I think she’s probably right.

For the first time in 22 years, I’m no longer a student.  My Master’s degree was officially conferred last Sunday and today I handed in my office key and said goodbye to the department staff.

My life ended up taking a much different course than I had anticipated.  When I came to this large midwestern research university, I was enrolled in the History PhD program.  Getting a Master’s was supposed to be nothing more than a hoop I’d have to jump through before I could take my prelims.

But over the course of four years, the department changed.  We suffered an exodus of British historians which effectively crippled our British history program.  Class offerings dried up, forcing Europeanists such as myself to either take classes that had nothing remotely to do with their area of study or load up on independent studies.  Internecine squabbles within the faculty delayed much-needed hiring decisions.  A poor funding situation was made worse by archaic and outdated departmental policies that royally screwed graduate students.  All the ingredients were there for a perfect storm.

Even though the situation within the department was bleak, I still held out hope that, if I transferred to another school, things would be better.  But I came to realize that, even if I got a PhD elsewhere, I’d still face a tortuous path toward employment.  The Great Recession has devastated the academic job market as universities cancelled or postponed searches.  More ominously, the Recession seems to have accelerated the move away from traditional tenure-track positions in favor of adjunct professorships.  It’s not hard to see why university administrations like them so much.  They get more work for less money without having to offer the possibility of tenure (or even benefits, in some cases).

Of course, this sucks if you’re a grad student looking for a career in academia.  The academic job market has always been challenging, but most of us hoped that we’d eventually land a tenure-track position.  Now, it looks like a significant number of new PhDs will be doomed to spend most of their careers as adjuncts, probably making only a little bit more money than they made as grad students.  The real kicker is that, unlike our counterparts in the sciences, humanities PhDs can’t rely on a career in industry as a backup plan.  If you’re forced to go into a field other than academia, having a PhD isn’t going to help you much.

There came a point where I had to ask myself: why should I pursue a degree that’s probably not going to get me a job in academia and won’t better my chances of getting one outside of academia?  I still love history, but you don’t need a PhD to enjoy history and do the occasional bit of research.  And while it’s certainly scary trying to find a job in this crummy economy with a liberal arts degree, it would be even scarier to be 30+ and in the same position.

It’s been a great four years, but it’s finally time to come down from the Ivory Tower.

Last night, I decided I’d finally cook the lobster tail I had sitting around in my freezer.  After all, what could be tastier than a nice juicy lobster tail dipped in melted butter?

I soon discovered that preparing a lobster tail for cooking is about as much fun as smashing myself in the head with vol. 6 of Ramesside Inscriptions.  Even dead, lobsters manage to be nasty, grudge-wielding crustaceans that are determined to punish you for their death.

I thought I’d be fancy and ‘piggyback’ the lobster like they do in restaurants.  It seemed so simple: all I needed to do was slit the shell and then gently push the meat upward.  Of course, slitting the shell proved to be rather more difficult than I had anticipated, for this particular lobster must’ve eaten its Wheaties in life, giving it a well-nigh impregnable shell.  I was forced to hack and saw away with a combination of knives and scissors.  It wasn’t pretty.  Little bits of lobster shell were flying everywhere and it seemed I was making about a nanometer’s headway for every 15 minutes of hard labor.  Finally, after much effort, I managed to crack the shell all the way back to the tail and I started pushing the meat through.

Being gentle proved not to be an option.  I was eventually able to push it through, but, instead of an elegant mound of lobster meat, I was presented with a ragged and torn mass that made the lobster look like a slain ingenue from a splatter film.

Thoroughly concerned by this point, I decided to pop it in the oven and hope that baking would cure all defects.  When the appointed time came, I stuck my kitchen thermometer in and saw that it wasn’t quite heated through yet, so I put it in for a few more minutes.  Still not heated through.  When I checked a third time, it was finally done, so I sat down to enjoy my delicious lobster meal with some melted butter.

I took one bite, chewed it carefully, and decided to chuck the thing in the trash. Not only was it bland, but I also managed to overcook it, giving it a lovely rubbery consistency.  All my hard work was for naught.  So instead of an elegant feast fit for the elite, I ended up having cereal.

Tonight, I attended the Great Vigil of Easter.  This is the first Mass of Easter season and, as such, it’s the most important service of the church year.  It also happens to be my favorite service.

The service represents liturgical pomp and circumstance at its finest.  The vestments, the incense, and the progression from darkness to light all come together to create an experience that is sublimely holy.  After forty days of austerity and self-denial, it’s nice to celebrate again.

This particular Vigil was made even more special by the fact that one of the candidates for baptism happened to be a cousin of mine whose family I hadn’t seen in ages.  It was completely unexpected, yet wonderful to run into them and have an opportunity to catch up.

Filled with the joy of this festival day, I wish you all a very happy Easter.